Everything that was, will be again
by igore
Summary: Decided to start from the beginning, and see where it goes. Starts with the Miniseries on.
1. S1:The worth of one

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

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_You hold onto that one thing…_

Soldiers aren't human, they look human, they talk and walk and breathe like humans, but in the end they're just tools. It's what they sign up for, it's what military life does; strips you down to bare bone, rebuilds you, and makes you something else. Something that has a different set of instincts, something that serves out a purpose, that works in the grander scheme of things. A lot of people didn't understand that. Civvie's expected a certain amount of humanity, mercy and compassion from each other. They cried out against criminals, against warlords, theives, CEO's and all the vileness in human nature, then expected to be protected from it, by it. Civvies didn't understand what a soldier was, what it meant, or why once you've been in it, it's all you really know.

Lee had been in the service for ten years now, since he was seventeen; that was the life he knew, the life he'd been shaped for. He didn't even know what he would do in the civvie world. Hard to talk to someone about the weather when you know twenty-five ways to kill them with a pen. He knew what a lot of grunt soldiers didn't, that this was it, once you sign that piece of paper and swear yourself in, this was your life. There was no going back. Some people saw that a little too late and ruined themselves trying to go back, others caught it in time and got out some way or another. People like Lee, saw it and damn well wanted it.

_Lee you are such a frakking asshole_

That's why he did so well in the army, why he was so good at his job. He had gone from an entry level grunt to the leader of one of the most sophisticated tactical assault teams in the entirety of the twelve colonies. His team had seen more combat and had a higher success rate than any other since the armistice. It was why instead of spending his R&R like every sane person, at a bar, he was out on a training run with the rest of his squad.

_You hold onto that one thing…_

Of course the thing about being a soldier is that if you weren't careful, you became damaged goods; you slipped passed that line where enemy and friendly were distinguishable. You became a razor, where everyone was expendable, even yourself. The company would give you a nice accident so that the civvies didn't find out and burst a vessel. Lee had been on that road a long time ago. Five years in, his special ops instructor pulled him out for a night at the bar and explained that there was one thing he was missing. That in the world of black ops, there was always one thing that kept the line in front of you. Lee hadn't understood it at the time, but a few weeks later, one of the few times he actually went someplace for his time off, Lee had made a couple of days worth of memories. Those he kept for himself and no one else. Some people kept pictures in their hats, some got tattoos. Lee had two days of happiness. For Lee, that was all he needed.

_Lee you are such a frakking asshole_

His brother Zak didn't understand that. He was an engineer on the Battlestar Solara, pretty good at it too, or at least he'd heard. It had been a few years since Lee had talked to his brother about anything other than reconciling with his parents. Which was a subject he definitely did not want to discuss. Zak didn't understand that either. Course Zak wasn't him, hadn't seen or done half the things that Lee had, which he knew was a blessing. So when he refused to go to the decommissioning ceremony of the Galactica and the official start of his father's retirement, Zak just kept needling until Lee had said something to the affect of 'get your head out of your ass and figure out that I don't want anything to do with the old fart'. To which Zak stated that he was a frakking asshole and hung up.

_You hold onto that one thing…_

The local birds made the last chirps of the day in the tall pines as the evening drew near. Caprican Mountain sunsets had to be the best of all the places he'd been. Of course this was the Cerebus run for his squad. Wasn't that bad considering some of the jams they had gotten themselves into in the past. A Cerebus run consisted of getting a mission standard of ammo, food, and gear; then being taken blindfolded by raptor to the middle of nowhere, dumped out, and told to walk home. Usually hard to do when you're tied up, with only the bare essentials, limited ammo, and four other teammates to depend on. Three years with this crew, and this, their fifth Cerebus run, made it all seem like luxuries.

" ...you don't know the half of it. So I'm at a bar outside the base on Aerelon…"

He had managed to get a buck with one bullet and dragged it back to camp for skinning and cooking. Usually they didn't allow themselves a fire, but they weren't in enemy territory, and venison tasted like crap raw. So there they sat, or most of them sat. Calisto, their medic, was on guard duty.

" …She's got me, just pinned me with some major 'come frak me' eyes so I walk over…"

She wasn't much for the nightly conversations, too quiet and serious for that, he thinks she might have been a trauma surgeon before joining the service. She hadn't even flinched when a nugget accidentally shot himself in the leg, just set down to stop the bleeding, giving orders like a general. It was hard to get her to talk, and usually Lee would worry about the stoic types; they tended to crack a little too easily when in the thick of things, but even she was not immune to Dion's charms.

"…and we're going at it like no one's business when suddenly the door busts open…"

Dion was a charming bastard that could make anyone laugh. The man had even sent Calisto into a giggle fit. On occasion, much to everyone's amazement, he managed to make Lee outright laugh and appear human. It was probably what let the team know he cared; didn't happen often but every once in awhile he would crack a smile, give a chuckle, and it never ceased to shock them when he did. Course sometimes laughing wasn't a great thing, especially when it came to Nestor.

"…I looked General Kincad right in the eye and said, 'She's a higher rank, sir, I was just following orders!'"

Nestor was a good kid, no doubt, bright, a touch on the mousy side, but he was a genius comms officer. He could pick any lock, and make any hunk of junk work, but the man had the most irritating laugh in the whole of the twelve colonies. Usually Lee just ignored it, but it was especially hard when Dion got the little man going. And Lee was cleaning his gun, so it was a struggle.

"…there is no way that Mad Dog Kincad let you go with just a warning. He guts recruits for fun."

Everyone there was a hardass, had to be when you had to do the counterterrorism work they did. Breaks people left and right, that sort of job, so the ones left were some of the best soldiers you ever met. But being the squad leader meant he couldn't quite be human, especially when an order he would give might cost them their lives. But they knew that he wouldn't give an order that he himself wasn't willing to follow.

"Must be my natural charm?"

"Or maybe he didn't want have to see you and burst out laughing a second time."

Achilla, out of everyone in the squad, had been with him the longest. They'd started in the Service together and been each other's shadows ever since. She'd probably saved his life more than he'd like to admit. They just got on, never really knew why, maybe they both loved the military life the same way, maybe the same kind of past, maybe the same kind of pain, or maybe it was her laugh. Either way, after the first Triad game where they both had literally lost their shirts, they were friends.

"Ya know, Achey, I would start asking you out, it's just I'm afraid if I tried to kiss you you'd scratch my face off like every other boyfriend you've had."

"Scratching wouldn't make you look worse."

Lee trusted all of them with his life, same the other way around, but their weren't so many ears to lend when you just called them a dumb fuck with a brain of a Caprican mule for leaving the flank open. But Achilla, with her red hair and Saggitaron temper, didn't care that he only saw his brother once or twice a year, didn't care that he hadn't talked to his father in five years or his mother in ten. With the two of them they managed to keep this combination of eccentric people in line. So much so they seemed to be the mother and father of a tight knit, fucked up family.

"I'll have you know several stately women have noted my exquisite physique and handsome face, thank you very much."

"Yeah, your mother and all her sixty year old friends."

This always made him laugh; Dion was funny, Achilla was witty, but together they were hilarious. Sitting there, sunset in the distance, orange clouds glinting off of Calisto's dirty blonde hair, Dion's campside cooking filling the air, Achilla's eye roll at his dramatic proposals and Nestor's high pitched squeak of a laugh, would have made him feel like he had found a home. He hadn't had one of those since he was ten.

"Considering your last boyfriend was sixty-two, Achilla, I wouldn't throw too many stones there."

Red hair swished furiously when her head snapped to him. Dion pounced on the opportunity.

"SIXTY-TWO!"

Lee had seen the look on Achilla's face turn nuggets into puddles, But he merely quirked an eyebrow while he finished cleaning his rifle and started the process of putting it back together. It was a look that told you that you were lucky she didn't have a gun. Of course, her rifle was propped up next to her, so he was dancing on the edge. Knowing Dion, he would make a new nickname for Lee's second in command in a few days, probably something like "hip braker" or " walker robber".

Lee would try and call Zak once the week was over, try and smooth it over. Because no matter how much he would have liked to just cut free and leave his 'family' behind, Lee had been taking care of his brother for too long, and habits were hard to break. Resolved to this he slapped the magazine into the rifle and set the safety. Looking up he caught a flare up in the distance, something small and he couldn't quite make out. Lee, never one to give up on details, stared intently.

"Major."

Callisto's all business voice drew his attention from the puzzling horizon. It was unspoken that if it was operation related, rank or codname was used, otherwise everyone was on a first name basis. She had positioned herself to the east, on a small rock peak at the side of the outcropping, giving her a commanding view of the valley below, just above the trees. Moderate cover from below, with maximum visibility. Lee got up, Achilla's eyes following.

" Lieutenant?"

"Flare in the Northeast, can't tell what it is, might be an explosion, but it's too far for us to be seeing it and not hearing it."

Like the words commanded the elements, the wind picked up, coming in from the base of the mountain, and from where he sat, moved the trees like fields of grain. The rest of the team noticed the change of atmosphere, and Lee himself could feel the pressure start to build. Something was happening, and it felt ominous. The sound hit them just as the newest flash cleared, rolling forward like a stampede.

"Gods…"

Lee didn't hear Dion's near silent exhale against the rumble of nuclear thunder as he stood fixed for a moment, staring at the mushroom cloud.

_Lee you are such a frakking asshole_

Those were the last words Zak ever said to him.

_You hold onto that one thing…_

AN: This is a re-edit of the first chapter after a couple Beta's got to it. Thank you to both of them.


	2. S1:Ground to cover

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

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Lee had no frakking idea what to do.

The team hadn't stopped for ten hours now, not to rest, eat or shit. The only relief they had were the moments they thought they heard something, had to stop and drop. Something that was in fact much more stressful; your heart instantly in your throat and your balls into your stomach. This reaction was something he hadn't experienced since his first missions into the Aeralon Jungle, looking for transport raiders.

It wasn't a comfortable feeling.

They had yet to see who in Hades name had hit them, but their presence in explosions and random gunfire was carried in the wind. That was what bothered Lee the most: he had no clue who was attacking.

Saggitaron separatists didn't have the nukes - the Colonial security bureau had spent millions making sure that didn't happen – so maybe another colony. But Intelligence said that none of the others had the attitude for it. Even if they did, the number of 'blooms' on the horizon indicated surprise on a massive scale. He doubted another colony could have hit so many targets all at once.

That left only one other possibility, and it would take a bottle of ambrosia before he started to think about that.

The nukes had stopped going off an hour ago, making it the longest day of his life. Never mind the soul crushing fact that civilization as he knew it was ending, but the uncertainty of not knowing if the next nuke would be close enough to vaporize them was enough tension to set everyone on edge. But after the dull roar had died down, the sounds of explosions and gunfire had carried up from the east.

Which was why they were heading north. Whoever the enemy was, they were well armed and well informed. The colonial security base where the Cerebus run was supposed to end was emitting a slow beep over the radio waves indicating that the base had been compromised. Which meant that the enemy knew the location of the base. Knowledge that as far as Lee knew, was held by only ten people outside each squad. If it was compromised, the enemy had the ability to cripple the whole of the worlds. Essentially, the twelve colonies were frakked. And he wasn't in the business of putting his team in a frakked situation just to die.

Re-supply at the forest ranger station, establish forward base, assess the situation; that was the best plan Lee could come up with, and right now it was the only thing making his shell shocked team move. The numb looks on their faces were enough to shake Lee to the core. They had been to every colony, every climate. Seen atrocities and injustices that civvies couldn't even imagine -- but this was something that even they couldn't walk away from with composure.

They had made good time getting through the North Caprican forest reserve just above Delphi and between the Northern and western mountain range. The thick trees and underbrush made stealth near impossible, but it also made it easy to spot any incoming foot traffic, as testified by the sound of crashing underbrush and human voices drifting in the wind. With efficiency that was telling of years in extreme training, the five soldiers melted into the foliage, training their rifles on the incoming sounds.

They watched as the newcomers approached. As far as Lee could see, thirty two men women and children were making their way down the valley. There was some kind of rough formation in their grouping, with twenty people moving in a V, eight people enclosed, and two bringing up the rear. From the inside grouping he could see two families, a man and two little girls, and beside him a man and women with three kids, two boys and girl who looked like a toddler, young enough that she was being carried piggy back by the man. The people holding the V formation were all fairly athletic and moved with some kind of sync, each carrying some kind of small arms, all leisure weaponry.

Lee knew he had to make a choice immediately: let them pass without letting them know the squad was there, or make themselves known. The newcomers were probably going to be picked off when they reached Delphi. But if his team took them to the outpost, it would slow them down and probably leave a trail big enough for anyone to find.

A part of him wanted to take what he could and quickly neutralize them just to make sure the enemy wouldn't be able to get a bead on their location or pick up their trail; this kind of scenario had been one of the earliest contingencies he'd trained for. But as the point of no return closed Lee couldn't help eye the children and wonder if he had it in him. The little girl laying her head on her fathers back as he carried her, sucking her thumb, had blond hair and a cherub face.

Warm light shining through golden strands.

In that moment Lee knew he had only one option. Glancing to his right he caught Achilla's look from three meters away. Giving a nod, she signaled to the others to lower their weapons but keep at the ready. The squad had been moving nine feet apart in a circle, a standard formation to avoid being vulnerable to mortar fire. As fate would have it the group of civvies was moving right down the middle. It meant a high risk of discovery, but if luck was on their side it would give Lee's team the advantage in case anything went badly.

"...we'll be able find any food in Delphi if it's nuked to shit."

The newcomers lack of stealth made their lack of professionalism evident; Lee's team hadn't even spoken since they had broken camp. Whoever this group was, they weren't military.

"You saw same as I did," one of the men was saying. "None of the nukes hit Delphi. If we can find some supplies and a place to bunk down, then we can figure out our next move."

Later Lee would kick himself for having the same plan, but for that moment he was focused on their movement, one of the hind points of their sloppy formation was almost on top of Dion's position. Luckily his drop had put him being a tree with a low bush snug against it, letting the oblivious flank guard pass by without noticing.

The same speaker added "Let's just hope none of those tin cans find us before we get there."

Right about the time the meat of the group reached the center of the circle, Lee let out a melodic whistle causing them to immediately panic and close the V into a circle, enclosing the two families inside.

"WHO'S THERE! Come out where I can see you."

Getting them to stop done, Lee slid up with his back to the tree he had positioned himself behind, and nearly rolled his eyes. "All right, I'm coming out."

Lee was used to volatile situations and came out slowly and relaxed, his rifle hung off the strap across his front, barrel to the ground, but his right hand never left the grip. His trigger finger was straight along the stalk, but very obviously a moment away from squeezing off a few rounds. He hoped he wasn't going to get a bullet in his ass for his trouble cause of a jittery civvie.

The man on point seemed to be the leader if there was one. He was about 6'1", dark brown hair, probably outweighing Lee by fifty pounds, wearing an athletic shirt with a vest and fatigue pants. He had noticed that the other twenty two people acting as a guard of some sort were similarly dressed.

They all seemed to relax a bit when they saw him, obviously the sight of a man in military attire was somewhat comforting. Lee's appreciation was notched up a bit when he saw that the man had lowered his gun, but still looked wary.

Lee didn't show that he had noticed and leisurely walked forward extending his right hand, which seemed to ease their minds even more.

"Major Lee Adama, Interplanetary Colonial Security."

The man grasped his hand firmly.

"Sam Anders, Captain of the C-Bucks."

The light clicked in Lee's memory: the Caprican Buccaneers, a professional pyramid team. It explained a lot about how they worked. In his periphery he could see the dark splotch that was Callisto, guarding his own flank.

Lee wasted no time.

"Mind telling me how you guys got out here?"

He could tell Anders wasn't used to his tone, but the military fatigues went a long way in demanding obedience.

"My team were up in the mountains for high altitude training when the bombs went off, we started heading to Delphi to see if we could figure out what the hell was happening, came across a small town that was being attacked and managed to get some guns and a few people out. Figured we'd find supplies in Delphi, maybe somewhere to bunk down and decide what to do next."

Lee had to contain his frustration; it was probably the vaguest report of events with little to no pertinent info. He was gritting his teeth asking a civilian this question, but his team needed the info.

"Any eyes on who was attacking the town?"

The balding man huddling the two girls, most likely his daughters, decided to speak up.

"They were Cylons! They killed everyone, everyone I knew. My friends..."

"Is that true?"

Lee demanded quickly. He could tell he wasn't making many friends by the reaction to the clear dismissal. As far as he was concerned there wasn't time to sift through everyone's story. The look Anders gave him clearly showed disdain but he answered just the same.

"Yeah, it's true,"

Anders confirmed.

"We saw silver robots sweeping through town; pretty sure they were Cylons. We're lucky to be alive. You mind telling me what exactly you're doing here all by yourself, Major Adama?"

He didn't respond for a beat, wanting that bottle of ambrosia. Figuring that the pretense was over and it was finally time to be merciful he let them off the hook.

"Who says I'm alone?"

The whistle he let out pierced the air, and the rest of his squad came out into view. The group in front of him was startled and off balance but fortunately none of them raised their weapons. The look Anders gave Lee was an interesting mix of frustration, betrayal and relief at the fact there was more than one soldier around. Lee's face, which had been impassive and blank during the whole exchange, sagged a bit and became weary. The decision he just came to sucking the energy out of him.

"How about we rest here for a bit and see if my medic can help any of you out some."

For a moment the refugees just looked at the major in amazement, which caused Lee to inwardly smile. A little part of him took some kind of enjoyment from upsetting people's expectations. He could tell Anders was thinking it over, deciding which way to go, but in the end agreed he with a nod.

Lee immediately turned to his Squad.

"Alright we rest here for thirty. Callisto, check them out, patch 'em up, make them mobile. Achilla, breakout some of our reserve MRE's and pass them out. Dion, Nestor, set up a perimeter, let me know if anything twitches."

And just like that his team went their separate ways. Turning back to Anders, who was looking at him with a hint of astonishment, Lee tilted his head, indicating that Anders follow him toward a cluster of trees out of earshot of the now sitting civvies. Once there he spoke in a clear voice, losing the obtuse tone that had pervaded it earlier.

"My squad and I were up in the mountains for what we call "Cerebus run." Basically a training run to test our survival skills. When the nukes went off we lost contact with our superiors. We were able to get the indicator beacon on the radio telling us our base of operations was compromised. We're heading west to a Forrest Ranger outpost that Dion knows about."

Anders was looking at him with his arms crossed in front of him. Clearly more receptive to the tone he was getting but not liking what he was hearing.

"Wait, why are you heading there? Why don't you just go find another base, find what's left of the military, the government? Isn't that what you're supposed to do?"

Lee ignored the indignant and accusatory tone, and instead tried to press the situation. Normally he would be the most tight lipped person on the planet about what went on in his squad. But things were far from normal, and he had to make sure Anders was being realistic about the situation.

"Listen: technically me and my team don't exist. There are only one hundred people who have high enough clearance to know anything about the operations we are involved in. Only ten outside of my squad know where our base of operations is located. One of those people is the President of the Colonies. Now if it's the Cylons who attacked us, then they have access into the highest level of the Colonies government."

He could see the C-buck was starting to understand and made sure to hit home as hard as he could.

"If they were able to destroy our base, that means they can hit every military base anywhere in the Twelve Colonies. And by the light show I saw a few hours ago, it looks like they have!"

Anders slumped in defeat, the realization that if there was a war going on, they had already lost. Lee went with him, allowing himself to finally accept the same fact that had weighed down the athlete's shoulders. "I'd suggest you come with us, be safer than anywhere else."

The athlete's eyes had drifted down to the moss covered ground. The light from the morning sun shined down, sparkling the dew that had collected between the green fronds.

"What's your plan?"

"The outpost is going to be stocked with a few weeks worth of food and ammunition. From there we set up a forward base and see what we can find out about who the hell nuked our planet."

Anders' eyes drifted back to Lee's face.

"You don't believe it was the Cylons?"

Lee leaned against the tree behind him, allowing himself a small amount of rest.

"A bunch of walking toasters shouldn't be able to infiltrate Interplanetary Colonial Security. It just doesn't make sense."

The C-buck seemed to pull what was left of his will off the floor and moved to settle two feet from the reclining major.

"Well, Major, unless you know of someone else who uses silver robots as foot soldiers, I'm thinking its Cylons."

Without explanation Anders untangled his crossed arms and extended his open hand. Lee gave him a quizzical look.

"Swear to me you won't just bail on us. Swear you'll protect them."

He bristled under the demand, but managed to show nothing.

"What makes you think I'll keep my word."

"I don't."

A moment passed, and everything that Lee's father had taught him about being a man flittered through his head. As much as he disliked his father, he couldn't help but shake the tall athlete's hand. He wouldn't go back on his word. Anders nodded and walked passed him to the huddled group to explain the change in plans.

Lee was left with a moment to himself and looked up. The wind rustled through the trees, causing the light shining on his face to flicker. The pulse of the sun warming his face against the cool morning air. Closing his eyes, he settled in himself, remembering a time when the sun had felt just as warm.

Waking up, the warm sun screened through golden bangs, shining off the bob top cropped hair. The sleep smile the lips made. The tiny hairs on the collarbone lighting up under the light. The warmth of the skin against his chest.

Opening his eyes, and looking at the rest of the group, Lee moved forward. There was still a lot of ground left to cover.

AN: A second chapter yay! Thanks again to my betas


	3. S1:The Reason

Lee hated children

As expected, what was supposed to be a two day hike doubled with the rest stops increasing with the addition of kids. And while Lee didn't regret the decision to bring them along, he knew his team was probably the best hope for their survival. But he could feel his frustration grow every time they had to stop because the kids were tired of walking. The toddler had started crying awhile ago, making his eye twitch. Children didn't do well with hours of walking and no sleep, he understood that.

This was just one of the many things that was slowly building in Lee's mind that made his body feel like it was coming apart at the seams. His team was running on very little rest and a phenomenal amount of stress. They had been trained to go for days without sleep, food or water. But they weren't trained for children crying all the gods damn time, or for being the frakking leader of a caravan that was making a trail a child could follow.

Lee had managed to evenly disperse his team somewhat, Achilla and himself taking a two horned lead, spread far apart, but not to the point where communicating was difficult. Nestor and Dion were at the opposite ends of the group, boxing the herd in, lookouts at the flank. The result, if drawn one point to point, was a rectangle with a wide ass. Inside the squads formation they had managed to form the C-bucks into a loose hexagon around the two families, which they barely managed to maintain. He had put Callisto in the middle of them all, because if they lost their medic, they were frakked, the more bodies between her and a bullet the better. Apart from the two families huddled together, they were all spread in a hopeless attempt to minimize the evidence of their trail. It was joke.

Lee hated jokes, nearly as much as he hated children.

Everyone who knew him, his family included, knew this. His squad found out real quick his sense of humor had met with a gruesome death long before they had ever met him. Dion was the only one with the balls to even try, and even then the six foot one man from Virgon knew to tred lightly when it came to joking with the Major. Lee wasn't above assigning mule bitch duty for a badly timed jocularity.

Consequently Lee saw this situation as one big frakking farce. There they were, trying their hardest to get to the outpost as quietly as possible, and they might as well be carrying spotlights. There were too many people in one spot, leaving enough evidence that anyone looking would find it. They were all tired, frightened, and to top it all off one of the kids was crying loud enough to alert anyone in the valley below.

"Why not light a bonfire and scream 'come and get us'"

His own muttering was what irritated Lee the most, this whole situation was starting to make him unprofessional. Once a soldier starts loose his composure, he starts to make mistakes, and that cost lives. And Lee hated loosing his composure more than he hated jokes, although it still registered slightly below his hatred of kids.

All because he had agreed to babysit a thirty-two person moving target.

Despite their time being hampered, the group managed to get to the base of the northern mountain range in the forest preserve. The outpost was only couple miles away. But as time went on, the civvie's fatigue grew. He knew they would have to make a stop overnight, and could only grit his teeth at the idea.

The sun was setting on the second day his squad had been with the newcomers, the once blue sky was tinted a sickly yellow, those lovely birds that sang the morning before the worlds ended were silent. Either dead, or aware that something in the air wasn't right.

As they got closer to the mountain, the terrain became rockier, making the trip trickier to map out, but in the end providing the perfect spot to rest. The cliff side of the mountain had an indent with a slight incline offering some cover from any air scouts, along with a fairly flat base and cover for an open fire fight. It was high enough to see anyone coming up the valley. Seeing the spot up ahead, Lee sighed. If they were going to stop for the night, this was the place to do it.

Turning his head to look over his shoulder, Lee could see the fatigue in his team. Nestor stumbled over a root, Dion's weapon dipped lower than it should have, Callisto eyes drooped with dark bags. Of them all Achilla looked the best, but then of course she had a will that could bend the winds. Four days without sleep or rest had taken its toll on the squad. The civvies were fairing little better, with bodies and minds not trained to handle that much stress, the C-bucks were a mass of slumped shoulders and tired legs. The two families looked like they were ready to fall down and die.

Tired himself Lee bent his head forward and slid his eyes closed.

"Frakkin civvies."

Once they reached the spot he eyeballed, Lee turned to the rest of the group, signaling the team to halt. The civvies, following the squad, stopped as well, the two families half collapsing to the ground.

"We'll bunk here for the night. Anders, you and your people find some dry wood for a couple of fires."

He saw the spark of irritation in the man's eyes at being talked like that. Lee was so tired he almost smirked at the thought of the athlete handling the pyramid coach like a peer instead of a superior. Fortunately Anders was still willing to take orders, but Lee knew there would eventually be a point of disagreement that would turn ugly if he wasn't careful. Unfortunately diplomacy wasn't one of Lee's strong points.

Taking four of his teammates, Anders set out into the woods, tromping through. Lee turned to the rest of the group and immediately set out to try and get the civvies rested and back on their feet as soon as possible.

"Stick close together, and make sure to build the fires against the wall. We're here for eight hours and then it's straight to the outpost, get what sleep you can."

The group set off to their respective places to rest. The toddler with the blond hair had finally stopped crying and was looking at him with an indecipherable expression. Yet another reason he hated kids, couldn't tell what they were thinking half the time. After awhile you figure out that certain signs let you know what a person is thinking. Sometimes a tick can tell you when an op is going to go south or if a prisoner is ready to spill intel.

But kids were still as water, probably due to the lack of developed facial muscles and baby fat. The mother soon recaptured the kid's attention. Lee noticed reflexively that the mother had black hair, and who he thought was the father had deep brown. The two boys with them had brown hair, most likely taking after the father. Looking to the other family, Lee saw the two girls with brassy colored hair and a middle aged man, presumably their father, whose hair was the same shade, only slightly balding.

No time to puzzle out genetics, his attention drew to the four members of his squad walking toward him.

"So what's the plan sir?"

Nestor never looked so tired. The man's olive skin couldn't hide the bruises underneath his eyes.

"Sleep in shifts, two hours each and an hour to rest. Callisto you're first, Nestor you're next."

Callisto didn't say anything, just walked quickly to claim her place among the civvies. Space in the area was eaten up fast by tired bodies looking for sleep.

Anders had come back with his people, each with an armload of dry wood, and had managed to stoke two warm fires for the rest to sleep around. Hopefully being against the stone would help diffuse any smoke and help conceal their location.

"Three hours of down time. You're too good to us Boss."

Dion's snark was exactly the wrong thing to say. Any thought of taking the first shift flew out Lee's mind upon hearing the sarcastic tone. He hated nicknames, especially 'Boss'. Hated them almost as much as he hated loosing composure and jokes. But still not quite as much as he hated children.

"I'm glad you feel that way Dion cause you get the first lookout shift. See if you can park your smart ass on top of that outcropping and spend the next five hours thinking about how much I frakking hate that nickname."

Dion was on edge enough to actually have a moment of aggression appear on his face before tramping it down. Lee knew Dion was good, and any of his team might be able to take him, but he had spent ten years being as ruthless as the limited morality of Black Ops would allow. They had all seen him kill without hesitation, and show zero remorse afterwards. He didn't play it up, but he knew they were aware of it, and it served as a usefull tool to stave off any unnecessary confrontation.

Dion's back was getting smaller as he walked away to find his perch. Frustrated, Lee turned back toward the group that settled down for the night. Finding a boulder on the perimeter of the group he sat down facing the two fires, the jumping flames lighting up his face. Out of habit he set out his tools to clean his gun and proceeded to take it apart.

His eyes never actually looked at the gun, staring intently at the group in front of him. One of the many squad challenges on base was to take apart and clean a gun blindfolded and timed. He wasn't the fastest, but he could give the best a run for their money. He took the time to actually look at these people. The balding father with the two daughters was staring absently into the fire while his two girls slept. That stare was in a dozen other faces. Anders was reclining against the cliff wall next to a fire talking to the eight of his team that hadn't fallen asleep. From the looks on their faces as they talked he could tell they were closer than the rest. He'd have to get their names later.

"You alright, sir?"

Achilla sat down next to him gun in her lap facing the outside. For whatever reason, Lee was reminded for a moment of the one time he went to the Temple of Apollo to confess his transgressions. He hadn't found much solace there either. Waiting a beat, Lee decided to be honest.

"No."

He didn't say anything else, because there was nothing to say. He couldn't spill his guts across her shoulders, when she was dealing with the same thing. He looked at her face, and he noticed that maybe she was just as tired as the rest of them. For the first time in years he entertained the question, she had dark red hair, almost black, and her skin was black to the point where it was almost blue; likely a throwback to her ancestors pre Colonies on Kobol. She was one of the most beautiful women that he had known, if he let himself think of her as a woman and not as a soldier.

"Me neither."

That was the reason she was probably his best friend, his only friend, because she only said what was needed. It shouldn't do anything. The world was ending and everyone knew that nothing was going to be alright, it shouldn't really matter if two people admitted it to each other. But for some reason it made the whole thing a bit more bearable. Not by much, granted, but he was willing to take what he could get.

Looking back to the group, his eyes fell on the family of five. The boys were asleep, the mother was off too, holding the toddler cradled in her arms. The father was asleep head lolling back in a way that Lee knew there would be a crick in that mans neck when he woke.

"Can't figure it." he said suddenly. "The girl has blond hair, parents don't."

"They're not her parents." Achilla paused, and then added "Kris and Deanne Krakel, sons James and Kincade. Girls name is Kacey, parents died during the attack and they picked her up on the way out of town."

Lee looked at her, she had turned her head to look at the group. He watched the fire play on her features, noticing the look of slight longing on her face. Wanting a family was something he never understood.

He had never really been much of a loving son, not after thirteen. Taking care of Zak had been his first concern, and even then he found himself hating his brother for needing protection, hated the constant responsibility and the constant certainty that he was never adequate for the task. It was the reason he hadn't run away on so many occasions. After he left home 'family' became just another curse word to be spat, never cherished or sought.

_Lee you are such an asshole_

But seeing Achilla, who simply looked at the family with a small sad smile on her face, maybe it was alright, for her at least.

"Think we'll get out of this sir?"

Her question was a surprise. It was a question that she only asked in the most desperate of situations, at times when the artillery was falling all around them, impacts from bullets spraying debris everywhere. And every time she asked, he would answer:

"You suddenly afraid of dying?"

It did its work well and dragged a better smile out of her. The only time he would allow himself to have a sense of humor.

"Wouldn't mind finding a handsome man to tie down first."

"Yeah well we survive long enough, maybe Dion will let you bring out the chains."

Lee wasn't blind to the look she got whenever he teased her about Dion. He knew she liked the charming bastard, and if the man got his head out of his ass, Dion might realize how much he liked her too. Hopefully they'd find time between the apocalypse and leading a bunch of civvies through a war zone.

"Hi"

He hadn't noticed Kacey approaching him. That in and of itself startled him bad enough. He was in the business where people snuck up behind you to slit your throat, and this toddler could have easily done so in that moment. With that morbid thought in mind, Lee responded with what little experience he had with children.

"Hi"

The toddler's inscrutable face lit up in what Lee supposed others would consider cute.

"Kacey."

He blinked in momentary confusion, before realizing the kid wasn't calling him Kacey, merely introducing herself.

"Lee." he rejoined

The kids smile grew as she waggled her tiny hand in what could be considered a wave. For a moment he could see it. The Reason.

He could see that if he were the kid's dad, nothing could keep him from protecting her. That momentary realization was something that scared him more than anything the darkest corners of the planets could throw at him.

"Kacey? Come back here honey."

Kacey turned and ran toward the woman Deanne, who probably woke after shifting and noticed her arms were empty. Lee couldn't help but notice the guarded expression in her eyes when she caught his gaze. The moment that terrified him was gone in an instant. He'd known that look for a long time, the one civvies gave you, when they knew you were built differently. Then would tolerate your presence but only until you did something outside their comfort range. He knew his place, protecting them, not among them.

"Sir?"

Achilla must have noticed the dark look in his eyes. Lee turned away from the idyllic family.

"Hate frakkin kids."

AN: This was a hard one to do, it's a content chapter.


	4. S1:Loss of Life

The caravan was up and moving before the dawn sun hit the sky. But two hours of sleep wasn't enough to stop the feeling in his gut.

It happened every time something went wrong, and it was something that had plagued him all his life. The hairs on the back of his neck would prickle, a slight clench and twist in his gut, and then everything would go to shit. Someone would die.

Every time he tried to write it off as his own paranoia. It wasn't instinct; he knew that for sure, but it was something that no one else seemed to feel, because at that moment everyone was more relaxed than they had been all week.

Maybe it was this that had him in a state. Everyone was too loose for his taste, too complacent. While the two hours of sleep had done little for him, everyone else was up by leaps and bounds. The C-bucks were joking back and forth, probably a shadow of what they had been before, but still too much for Lee's taste. The civilians looked almost conscious, still numb from shock, but their eyes actively followed the children as they played about. The children, sensing the slightly brighter mood, decided a game of tag was in order. They didn't step outside the C-buck perimeter, and despite their game, everyone was still moving at a steady pace, but still, it was a distraction.

Even his team was, by the lighter mood, affected. Whatever children's laughter did to people who hadn't had that part of their brain burnt out, it was making his team smile. It wasn't this that bothered him. It was the fact that every once in a while their eyes would wander away from the horizon they were supposed to watch to focus instead on the frolicking kids, or lock with one another to communicate the 'wonderfulness' of the moment.

The quiet made the civvies comfortable. That false sense of security from the lack of action. Their brains telling them that maybe everything would be alright. Something so sad and pathetic that deepened the frown etched in Lee's face.

Civvies call it hope. Lee called it a delusion that would get everyone killed. Cause he could almost hear it running through their heads.

Maybe it's over, maybe the enemy is gone, maybe they lost interest, maybe we're far away enough.

The civvies empty optimism combined with the unnerving feeling running through him, and the fact the bright mood was affecting his squad, set Lee on edge. Especially when he heard Anders break formation to move closer to him.

"You never did tell me how you all came to know about this place."

Lee's eye twitched, he hated useless questions. It wasn't an unreasonable, but it didn't mean that he was going to look at the Athlete while he explained.

"Dion camps out in the preserve regularly. He found the outpost a couple years ago. Best he could figure, it was a forestry outpost abandoned after the armistice. Keeps it stocked with a months worth of food for when he gets some R&R."

"I'm guessing the great outdoors isn't your idea of rest and relaxation."

Lee could tell Anders was on his way to digging for personal info, probably trying to figure him out. His squad had learned awhile ago that he wasn't one to impart that kind of information. Sure they knew about his life from 17 to now. You couldn't keep your record in the service secret even if you tried. But for the bits they knew nothing about, the time before the military, there was great fascination for some reason. The things he didn't talk about, like the scars on his arms, were the subject of much speculation. In fact he had heard there had even been a pool on base on who could guess where and how he got the scars.

"Prefer a bar, a brawl and a broad."

In the distance he heard Achilla chuckle. His drinking and fighting habits were common knowledge, and more often than not she was right there with him. But she was one of the few people who knew that he hadn't shared a bed with someone in almost a year. What she didn't know was the reason, and she was smart not to ask.

His tone must have kept Anders from pursuing the conversation, unwilling to give up on the momentum on this 'bonding', seeing it's use for the future, Lee tried his own way.

"So, are you closer to some of you teammates than the others?"

"I don't know what that's supposed to mean."

Lee hated dealing with people. It was usually more trouble than it was worth. He was an expert interrogator, but holding a conversation was a little more difficult.

"Noticed it last night, you're more relaxed around some of the people on your team, there's trust there. If I'm going to be depending on someone outside my squad, I'd like to know who that is."

He glanced over his shoulder and caught Anders measuring him with his gaze. Lee could see the decision forming in the athlete's head.

"Pyramid players shift around a lot in a career. Get traded, injured, or move on to a different team. Those guys've been with me since I started for the C-bucks four years ago." Anders took a moment for Lee to process the information. "What about you, you known your people long?"

The Major figured fair was fair, but he still had a hard time imparting any information about himself, especially his career to a civilian.

"I've been in Special Ops for five years, I've known these people for three. Achilla's been with me since basic though."

They were coming up to the location Dion indicated the cabin was. The feeling that had been irritating him all day had only increased. Never one to completely disregard his gut, Lee stopped.

"Anders, tighten up your men and get the families together."

Instead of acting, the man just started to look for what alarmed him.

"What's going on?"

Lee couldn't keep the anger out of his voice this time.

"Just do it, Anders!"

Apparently this was going to be the last straw for the C-Buck. If Lee had been looking at Anders, he would have seen the mans' shoulders roll back, readying himself for a fight.

"Listen, Major, I know you're used to dealing with soldiers who obey your every wish, but I'm going to need a little more to go on than your say so..."

All sound ceased for Lee when he looked to the ground. There was a soft patch of dirt underneath a berry bush where the morning dew had stained it a dark brown. Pressed into the dirt, only slightly obscured by fallen wood debris. Was a paw print from what he could see, he guessed the whole print would be about the size of a child's chest. Three toe impressions were distinguishable, with a claw mark capping each, gouging the earth in front of it.

It was a bear print.

The vaguely unsettling feeling Lee had been aware of all day was pulled tight like a string when he heard Deanne shout for her boy James to come back. In the moment between his head turning, his eyes finding James, and the rest of his body turning to join his head, time slowed. It allowed him to take in the moment before the disaster.

The boys hair bounced in the sunlight, he had a smile on his face, the game of tag delighting him. The red shirt with the Picon Panther logo lit in random designs from the stencil the trees made with the sunlight. The man nicknamed 'Tenpoint' was telling a joke and had his head turned to the person behind him allowing the boy to pass by without impediment. Right past the perimeter. Tracking the boys path, he saw Dion notice it at the same time.

The boy turned around to see that his brother wasn't chasing him and slowed. The smile displaying his small teeth and missing front tooth. It was at that point Lee saw the huge bear ten yards away from the child. It was as tall as a man on all fours, it's long fur a sun baked brown. Horrible burns covering it's shoulder, running down it's neck down to it's face, patches of fur gone revealing the fat underneath it's skin. The burns were oozing, creating a glisten, other parts scabbing, it's body attempting to repair itself. Time stopped, the bear locking eyes with him, and Lee noticed with a moment of sadness, the bear's left eye had been eaten by fire, exposed bone circling it.

Time sped up, shooting right past normal into high gear when the bear shot out of the bushes that had been obscuring it from view, letting out a roar.

The noise caused the boy to whip around. Some people have reflexes that cause them to act in the sight of danger. Others have reflexes to freeze up and stand there like a frakking idiot while a bear the size of a jeep comes barreling toward them. Lee could understand the reaction, your mind freezing your body, but it did little to keep you from being torn to shreds.

Within the few seconds it had taken for Lee and Dion to train their sights on the animal, it had managed to cross six yards.

The man in front of Tenpoint acted while everyone else was just beginning to notice the sound of the bear running. Lee saw him scoop the boy up and manage a turn before the bear pounced on him. The force of the impact popped the boy out of the mans arms, launching him about three feet to land hard at the base of a fallen tree.

The bear had the man face first on the ground, two paws on each shoulder, and from the snapping sound Lee had heard on impact, bones were broken.

Before Lee and Dion could fire off their first shots, the bear had its jaws around the back of the mans' neck, jerking the head back with enough force to easily wrench a door off the hinges. The flesh tore and before the man could even scream his neck was broken with a snap.

Lee was firing, three shots with each pull of the trigger, the impacts making the bear hide ripple.. Instead of moving back to cover the panicking families, the C-bucks closest were stumbling to get as far from the bear as possible, while the one's farthest were stupidly rushing up in an attempt to help their friend. This was why Lee hated working with civvies, when the shit hit the fan; they were stupid enough to stand in front of it.

Which is what one of them had decided to do with his line of fire. In a show of courage a woman with skin almost as dark as Achillas' ran right up to the bear, who was making a meal of the dead man, and shot it several times with a .45 revolver. She might have been able to kill it if she had hit it right in the eye, and through to the brain pan. But shooting a 14 foot bear through the meat of the neck would be like expecting a throwing dart to stop a linebacker. It might hurt like a son of a bitch, but in the end it would only piss it off.

Which it did.

Tearing itself from its meal, the bear roared, almost drowning out the repeater of Dions' weapon. The woman must have realized the situation she had put herself in and began to back up still firing. But before she could take more than a few steps the bear was on her.

Once she was down he resumed is near constant fire, trying to hit something vital and slow the monster down. The woman had a better position than the previous meal. She had landed on her back when the bear rushed her, and it hadn't managed to pin her under its weight allowing her movement. But she was still under a animal more than twice her size and ten times her weight. It managed to get it's teeth around the woman's shoulder and whipped her about, trying to stun her for an easier kill. One of the bullets must have hit something particularly painful, because the bear released the woman mid swing, sending her flying a good five feet before skidding to a stop among the leaves.

The wear of bullets began to take it's toll on the animal, presented with two targets, Dion and Lee, it chose the latter, charging clumsily towards the major. The bear had five yards to cross, giving Lee only a few seconds to either stand or flee. Lee wasn't going to waste the last few seconds of his life by running.

Dropping on one knee, he began firing as fast as he could. The bear's head jerked about as 56mm rounds slammed into it. As fate would have it, the beast opened its mouth to let out roar, only to catch six bullets tearing into it's chest cavity, hitting the heart and inner organs. The beast dropped three feet from Lee, exhaling blood into his face. Without missing a beat, Lee stood and unloaded another three rounds directly into the bears' skull.

There was always a moment of stillness after a firefight, where the absence of gunfire made everything seem silent. Your body started taking stock, finding the aches and pains. The first thing he felt was the warm droplets on his face from where the bears blood had sprayed him.

"Clear."

After letting his team know the situation was over, Lee allowed himself another moment to look at dead animal before setting off to assess the colossal catastra-frak.

Achilla and Nestor were moving to get the civvies back together. The C-bucks had been scrambled, a complete breakdown of the formation that left his squad to clean up the mess. Dion and Callisto were examining the woman who had been thrown closest to them.

Quickly finding where the man who had saved the kid lay, Lee knelt beside him. The bear had torn the neck and shoulder open; even if the man's neck hadn't been broken, he would have bled out in moments. The man had a chain around his neck that had somehow escaped the bear's teeth. It ran through a pair of gold rings. Wedding bands. Catching Callisto's eye as she moved to help the wounded woman, Lee gave a tiny shake of his head. She merely nodded and turned her attention back to the life that could still be saved.

Looking back to the body in front of him, Lee noticed with a sense of detachment that the man's spine was shining through some of the tears in the skin. This man who saved the kid's life was now dead. The loss of life was a concept that used to give Lee a sick feeling in his gut, but that was a long time ago.

A sniffle and ragged breathing to his right caught his attention. The boy James was huddled against the log he had fallen next to, holding his knees to his chest, and hiding his head in his arms.

The sight was enough to rouse a terrible anger in Lee. Standing up he moved intently toward the child.

"Get up."

The boy didn't move, he had probably witnessed the whole gruesome scene.

"I said get the frak up!"

Not waiting for the boy to respond, Lee reached down, grabbed the boy by the back of the neck and yanked him to his feet. The kid let out a sudden shriek that Lee ignored as he began pulling the kid by the collar of his shirt toward the group of civvies corralled by his team. Deanne stopped crying in her husbands arms long enough to see that her boy was unharmed.

"James!"

Lee was so livid, he almost threw the child into the arms of the mother, instead he just let go. James, crying his eyes out, immediately ran into his mothers embrace, who then sobbingly berated the boy for wondering so far away from them. Lee looked the ragged father straight in the eye.

"The next time he does something stupid like that, I'm going to let it eat him."

Not waiting for a response, Lee turned back to where Callisto was couched beside the fallen woman working in sure quick movements. He walked up and took in the scene. The woman was conscious and gritting her teeth as the medics hands worked at taping and sealing her wounded shoulder. He had to give the C-buck credit, it looked painful. The wound was deep, the flesh ragged where the bear's teeth had ripped into her.

"How's it look?"

Callisto didn't stop or look up as she responded.

"Broken clavicle, dislocated shoulder, and severe lacerations. Luckily it's mainly muscle trauma. Doesn't look like it managed to get an artery, so she might live. But I need to get more supplies to keep her stable."

Dion chose this time to speak up. He was kneeling opposite Callisto holding the black haired woman down while the medic taped the edges of the wound together, at the same time stemming the bleeding

"Got a fully stocked aid kit at the cabin, it's not much, but it's more than we've got here."

Looking at the state of the woman, Lee figured it was a toss up whether the move would do more damage than good. His brow furrowed.

"Can we move her?"

Callisto cracked her neck without breaking pace. Understanding that action more than he'd care to, Lee realized he just asked her what she considered a stupid question. Lee had seen her do before, he often wondered if it was a motion indicating her want to snap his neck.

"It's not a good idea, but neither is leaving her here to bleed to death."

Lee reminded himself never to ask her about business again.

"Wow Cal, you sure do pull out that sense of humor at the best of times."

"It's army ordinance, doesn't always work."

Dion and Callisto's grim banter was cut short when the woman surged with a painful wail. The medic finished the bandage, which meant pulling on something painful. The woman's eyes locked with Lee's and there was a moment, just one, where all the anger at the situation drained away. Flustered he turned away.

"Alright, make a stretcher and lets get there before anyone else manages to get themselves fragged."


	5. S1:Mouth to feed

They managed to get the woman onto the table without causing much more damage to her shoulder. Lee had Anders recruit two of the strongest C-bucks to carry her on the collapsable stretcher Callisto carried in her pack. The medic walked with the stretcher all the way to the cabin, the rest of the group wrapped around them in a tight formation, with the rest of his squad spread farther out.

The close proximity of the outpost made the attack almost comical. Like some kind of old Delphian fairytale, the fount of their salvation guarded by a mighty beast. Only this particular fount would probably only give them a weeks worth of food, any medical supplies would be used up by the injured person they were carrying.

The moment the woman was on the table, Dion retrieved a bulky looking med kit and proceeded to help Callisto prep for stitching and refresh the saline drip that was nearly dry. As they began their work stabilizing the woman, Lee watched with a measured gaze. The woman was still conscious as he addressed her.

"What's your name."

"Sue-Shaun"

"That was a very brave thing you did, Sue-Shaun. Next time you decide to do something that brave, check in with me first."

Sue-Shaun nodded as well as she could, smiling a bit. As Lee walked away he heard Dion speak lowly.

"Don't worry, he's just a little cranky cause he was assembled by the army out of dead assholes, sometimes the seams itch."

No one noticed Lee's smirk. Dion was still sore about being on lookout for five hours, but Lee had years of experience telling him by Dion's tone, there wasn't a grudge. Just a lot of smartass.

Achilla had hung back to keep anyone unnecessary out of the cabin, allowing the two to work. Once everyone got the message, Lee ordered Nestor to find a lookout position and Achilla to patrol the perimeter while he assessed their situation.

They were against the mountain, two meters away from a rocky climb at the crotch point of two hills, the crease running down into a valley with tall trees on both sides. The cabin itself was not an old forestry outpost. Traditionally forestry outposts in the deep woods were on stilts to keep all sorts of critters and predators out, and generally were taller than the tree-line to spot forest fires.

The cabin before them was a single room log matchbox, the one window and door facing the downward slop with the mountain to its back. The brief glimpse he got inside the place before he had to keep the concerned civvies gave more questions than answers. The inside was obviously built for residency. It had a bunk, a table, a counter and a stone fireplace, but nothing else. It lacked any signs of use, no scrapes, wear or tear, other than what Dion had set up for his vacations. It looked like it had been built years ago, then abandoned before anyone could use it. The most confusing was the fireplace itself. It's dimensions were off, too big for the size of the cabin.

Turning his back to the cabin, Lee found his way to Achilla, who was making her rounds. On his way he saw that the families had huddled together close to the building, their fear from the attack causing them to be overly cautious and unwilling to venture, unwilling to sit still or relax. The C-bucks were about the same, except for a few small groups comforting each other over the loss of their teammate.

One woman, a brunette with pale skin in tight athletic gear, was on the ground, head in hand sobbing quietly. A man with similar features kneeled next to her, talking in a low soothing tone, rubbing her back as she grieved.

Lee turned his attention to Achilla who had noticed his approach, but like a good soldier hadn't stopped scanning the horizon. Falling into step he allowed with her himself a moment to take a breath, but it came out as a ragged sigh.

"How's the woman?"

Achilla was usually the first to speak in their dialogues. She was one of two people with whom he would, and could, carry on a conversation.

"Sue-Shaun, she'll live, but it'll take most of our med supplies to keep her stable."

"What about food?"

She still hadn't looked at him. They both kept walking, neither looking at the other, just scanning the horizon. It was then that Lee noticed the sun. All through the day there had been pleasant weather with a nice cool breeze, making the heat of the midday sun bearable.

"From what I saw the food rations Dion stashed here will feed all of us for a couple days, a week if we stretch it."

Achilla risked a momentary glance to the Major. He'd seen that look before, it didn't happen often, but recognized the concern on her face. Lee knew he looked like crap. His body couldn't hide the constant fatigue and stress he was under. Fortunately for both their sakes, she didn't mention it.

"Any plan on what we're going to do?"

"We're about a days hike from Delphi. Civvies stay here while we go take a look at the facts on the ground and scrape up some food."

He hated the plan, but there weren't many choices left, they could bring the civvies with them, but with the morning's demonstration, that plan would only end with more dead bodies.

"Anders might not like that."

He felt a stab of irritation go through him.

"Yeah, well, if Anders questions one of my orders again we might just end up with one less mouth to feed."

To anyone else, it might have sounded like a joke. But as anyone who knew him, and the civvies with him now were quickly learning, Lee did not make jokes.

"I'm not one to one to speak out against you putting a bullet to someone, but I have to say, we're going to need him."

Lee turned to look Achilla in the eyes without slowing their pace. She was smart, smarter than most any person he knew, and right then she grasped something he didn't. Not that Lee would admit it, but he knew enough not to ignore intelligent advice.

"How's that?"

"He can handle the civilians. You can't."

Lee stopped walking.

Achilla continued ahead for a couple of steps and then realized he wasn't going to move until she explained. She turned to face him, and nearly smiled at his raised eyebrows and indignant expression.

"Civilians require a gentler hand when being given commands. Somehow your do-it-or-I-shoot-you method might just fall short."

He looked down and began shaking his head. It was his way of telling her that she was right.

"How did I ever manage to be saddled with such a pain in the ass captain?"

"Cause you can't bluff to save your life and I look better topless."

Looking back up at her, Lee quirked his eyebrow, allowing himself a moment of humor.

"Says who?"

It got a smile out of the Captain. The wind picked up in the trees, and the murmur of conversation and sobbs in the background created a white noise that drowned out his thoughts. Everything was calm, and an eerie lucidity washed over him. Lee was more focused, his vision was sharper, and without knowing why, Lee turned back to look at the cabin.

Something that had been vaguely bothering him since their arrival was now irritating the hell out of him, so much so he couldn't concentrate on anything else. Something about the Cabin's chimney, it was too frakkin big.

Achilla and Lee had walked to the southwest, granting a better view of the where the fireplace cut into the side of the cabin. Most stone fireplaces were fat at the bottom for the fire, then sloped up into a square shaft to keep the heat in and the weather out. He remembered barely being able to fit into a fireplace when he was ten, but the chamber in this one looked to be about six feet tall and four feet wide.

To anyone else it would have looked like someone just got their proportions wrong, but no matter how hard he tried, Lee couldn't ignore it. Like an itch on the end of the nose.

"Sir?"

What caught his eye was the base of the chimney. The entire cabin had been built a long time ago, and while it looked like it hadn't changed much, the land around it had shifted. Most likely a particularly rainy spring had created a small wash and exposed some of the foundation around the chimney. The water had eaten at the dirt, searching for any weakness, and had managed to get under the foundation beneath the cabin. It would in the future probably threaten to collapse the entire structure, except that the chimney foundation extended past the cabin's, straight into the ground.

The lucidity that had engulfed him now ebbed away, allowing him to move forward. He motioned for Achilla to follow. She did, without question. Lee knew his quick pace was catching the attention of the civvies, including Anders, who had joined his friend in comforting the crying teammate.

Halfway to the cabin, Lee saw nestor in a covered outcropping where a boulder had settled after falling down the mountain.

"Nestor!"

Motioning for Nestor to join him and Achilla, Lee continued his trek without waiting, knowing it would take a few moments for the other soldier to catch up. Anders caught up to them just as Lee entered the cabin. The intent and urgency of their steps colored the athlete's voice with alarm.

"What's going on?"

Lee ignored the question as he made a beeline to the fireplace, passing a confused Dion, and Callisto, who was still working and paid him no heed. The arch of the fireplace stood about five feet, tall forcing Lee to bend down to drag the grill out of the way, causing the ash; from the few times Dion had built a fire, bloomed into the air.

Inspecting the inside of the chimney Lee didn't notice much out of place. There was blackened stone and mortor, traces of ash and soot, and in the back nestled in a corner, a small metal case housing three buttons colored green, black and red. Making sure he was clear, Lee pushed the green button. A low metallic clank and hiss, and the floor of the fireplace started to descend.

If Lee hadn't completely focused on the ever widening opening, he would have noticed the shocked expression on Anders' face.

"How the frak did you know?"

Lee didn't acknowledge the athlete in the slightest. He simply stared at the hole in the ground, trying to understand what had just happened, the sudden arrival and departure of that intense focus frightened him like no man could. In the end he came to no conclusions. Saving the internal debate for later, Lee pushed the black button, stopping the lift before it went too far down, and turned to his team, who were patiently waiting with anxious expressions. Except Callisto, who recognized the situation was not dire and turned back to wiping up the blood around the stitches she had just put in.

"Dion, you bring up the middle. Achilla you cover the rear. Nestor, stay here and cover the shaft."

They immediately checked their weapons and dropped their backpacks. As Lee checked his own weapon he caught Anders' silent frustrated glare, tense hands on his hips. Lucky for both of them, Anders didn't make a move to do anything other than just glare. Turning his attention back to his crew, they all gave nods to let him know they were ready to go. With a breath through the nose, Lee turned and brought his rifle up to his shoulder and dropped down onto the lift.


	6. S1:Dumb Luck

Dumb luck.

That's what it was.

When you were in the line of work that involves life and death, you grew a healthy understanding of luck. One man runs through a mine field, doesn't blow himself up. Firefight where no one hits their targets, then one person gets a head-shot from forty feet away with a handgun. Luck always was around. But you couldn't count on it, you couldn't predict it, and you couldn't expect it to work against the person trying to kill you.

But that's what this was, dumb frakking luck.

From the moment Lee, Achilla and Dion had descended into the hidden basement of the cabin, it seemed that their surplus of luck had finally been cashed in. The main vault door had been left unlocked, with a key left on the outside in a small plastic case imbedded in the wall. Those two details deivulged the unlikelihood that the facility had ever been in use. The key locked the door from the inside, indicating that this was an apocolypse bunker.

Lee had heard while back in his academy classes that toward the end of the first cylon war the government began preparing for a possible attack and started to draw up plans for the ultimate long term habitable underground facilities. From what he vaguely remembered from that one day of Military history in the Academy, only three of the colonies were able to complete construction, Caprica being one of them. He remembered being told the bunker had been decommissioned after years of peace. That apparently wasn't the case.

It took five hours to sweep the entirety of the bunker, it might have taken less time, but there wasn't any power, and even with night vision, it was still a pain in the ass to work in the dark. Luckily they found the security control room outright. It housed several copies of the bunker's blueprints, and with the new information, Lee's team were able to coordinate the sweep. There were thirty-six rooms in total, and ten assorted storage lockers. Cafeterias, gyms, bunk rooms, med bay, libraries, rec. rooms, and from the look of it an executive wing, to house the president, the cabinet and all their families.

When the sweep was done, each team checking in on the short wave radios they kept with them, Lee had Nestor come down and check the generator. The man spent a good minute ogling the piece of machinery, spouting off fifty facts, only half of which Lee understood. Finding it in good condition they turned on main power. The lights came on in a flickering wave, as disused cables came alive with power, lighting the concrete and metal plated hallways. Lee was in the control room when the lights lit up around him, panels and monitors coming to life.

He had been sorting through the records of the supplies and equipment housed in the bunker, trying to assess their situation. He didn't understand most of it, Lee would have to have Nestor explain it. But what he did understand was making him disbelieve their sheer luck. The facility from what he could tell was a compact nuclear fusion generator used in newer model battlestars to rid their need for constant tillium refueling. If kept in good condition it would last for a couple of centuries.

The bunker was fully independent from the surface, recycling air, water, even the food, which as he understood was not much more than a vitamin enriched protein paste that could outlast a cockroach in a nuclear blast.

The facility itself hadn't been completely shut down, a subsystem was left running to keep the recycling equipment working. The last log said that the bunker status had been downgraded to permanent standby, that all the staff were to be reassigned, and that was twenty years ago. It seemed it had been more cost effective to simply leave the facility running than to dismantle it.

Lee didn't know how he had managed to find it, and the intense concentration that made him notice the chimney's inconsistencies unnerved him. But there was one thing he learned while back: you don't stop and question luck, otherwise it'll come and bite you on the ass for your ungratefulness.

After everyone checked in he called to stand down and backtrack to the security control room, which overlooked the door to the lift. Nestor was the first to get back so Lee immediately sent him back out again.

"Nestor, get Callisto and Anders down here, we need to have a little chat."

Nestor took it in stride, the find of the day probably giving him some extra pep. Lee could already guess that it was the same bounce that was going to be in everyone else's step.

As each member of his team filed in, they reported their findings. There were twenty two family sized living quarters, two bunk rooms that housed twenty people each. He could see the hope in each of their faces, a result of the presence of their immense luck. Lee learned a little more about the place, there were a few shorts, but nothing dangerous, but his main interest lay in the armory report.

The ammo and arms left in storage was all forty years old, but heavier ordinance. He carried a T-51 rifle, designed to for accuracy and power. But it was useless against most armor. The rifles, though outdated, were from the first war and were designed to pierce the armor of a Centurion Assault Robot. They were heavier, but carried a lot of power. There were standard outdated pistols, probably for crowd control, but they had enough firepower to equip all twenty people twice. Gods bless Armistice paranoia.

Nestor returned with a bewildered Anders not long after his team finished reporting in with Callisto silently behind. Lee could tell that the athlete was about to bombard them all with several useless questions. Achilla must have caught on to this as well, and with a meaningful glance let Lee know she would be taking the lead on this. Of course Anders had to prove him right.

"What is this place?"

The look Achilla gave him this time was a stern suggestion to keep quiet and let her handle this. Looking away Lee nodded his head while he scanned the room. In the middle of the room rested a lit light table with a topographic map of the area in a forty mile radius.

His team had arranged themselves around the large table with Nestor and Callisto coming to stand at one of the ends. Lee caught from the corner of his eye the medic ruffling the engineer's hair with a tired smirk, which she did every time Callisto won a bet with Nestor. He would guess that it was a bet on whether Anders would ask a stupid question. But Lee might have been biased.

Knowing Lee wouldn't say anything in response, Achilla put on a soft expression and addressed Anders.

"Best we can tell it's an apocalypse bunker, made after the Armistice, and from the looks of things, it's never been used, shut down a for a couple decades."

Surprisingly the athlete seemed to know what Achilla was talking about. Slowly but surely the overwhelming possibilities washed over his features, and the look on his face was of disbelieving hope.

"Could we use this? I mean, as a safe house?"

Looking around almost wildly to each of Lee's squad Anders noticed that none of their faces reflected his optimism. He turned back to Achilla.

"Will the Cylons know about it?"

Achilla, bless her, did let a twitch mar her empathetic expression, she did have a better poker face after all.

"Maybe, if they knew about our base, it's possible they about this place too, course at this point it's the safest place for you."

The light table lit Anders from below, allowing all of them to see his finely chiseled face solidify in frustration. Lee mentally sighed, preparing for the inevitable fight to come.

"You mean for us."

Lee could tell Achilla's patience was running out, her tone taking a harder edge. That's one of the few things that had learned early on about Achilla, you don't want to tell her what she means to say, what she thinks, or who she is. If she tells someone what's what, they can pretty much take that as the truth in all three dimensions.

"We need to find out what the facts on the ground are, who the enemy is, the measure of the ground force, we aren't going to be able to do that from here."

"What about us? You guys go off and get killed, we're left twisting in the wind! If something goes wrong with Sue-Shaun none of us are qualified to help her."

The thing that frustrated Lee the most was that the athlete was right in a way. Lee already knew that this was a decision of priority, and naturally he leaned toward the military aspect. They needed to know what was going on, and going ahead without a medic might as well be a suicide mission.

"We need someone with medical experience with us. It's a day's hike from here to Delphi, and someone with a wound slows us down and leaves a trail."

"We have someone hurt right now that needs help. And who cares who attacked, they nuked the planet to scrap?! Keeping these people safe is more important."

Course the reality of the situation was that any miliatary operation would have the likelyhood of ending in disaster. If that were to happen then the people here would have no chance of surviving more than a month.

"The more we know about the enemy, the better we'll be able to keep your people safe."

"What is it with you guys?! These aren't just my people, they're your people too!"

Anders' shout snapped Lee back to the conversation, which he had been observing at a near unconscious level. The decision came easier than he thought. The sound of his clear voice seemed to startle everyone.

"Callisto, how long till we know Sue-Shaun is out of the woods?"

The only confusion the medic showed was a slightly furrowed brow.

"Couple weeks, by then she should be healing up and any damage we didn't know about should have made itself known by then."

Nodding to himself, Lee continued, turning to the engineer.

"Nestor, how long will it take to get these people settled and this place checked out?"

Nestor's reaction was a bit more noticable, wide eyes and raised eyebrows.

"Hard to say, I haven't worked with equipment this old before, unless you count my first car. A month, maybe more."

"Alright."

He waited a beat, and no one spoke. It was moments like these that Lee enjoyed a little too much, no one guessing what his decision was going to be, waiting for him to lay down the verdict.

"Achilla, Nestor, Callisto you're staying here, make sure these people get set up, Dion and I are going on the recon."

They all looked stunned, Anders most of all and that had Lee laughing hard on the inside. All of his team, except Achilla, was looking at each other, making sure that they hadn't imagined what they just heard. It wasn't the splitting of the team, it was the siding with a civilian that had shocked them all. The look on Achilla's face told him she understood this wasn't just a random choice, it was more, it was the attitude and path that Lee was going to lead them down. Dion on the other hand, lacked that aptitude in observation.

"Sir?"

Lee stared Anders straight in the eye as he answered Dion's question.

"These people are our first priority."

Anders, though less observant than Dion, it seemed understood that though Lee was agreeing with him, it wasn't going to be the end of the conversation.

"Achilla, start getting these people organized and settled in, Nestor check this place out top to bottom and see what needs fixing, Callisto you got two weeks to train one of these civvies in basic medical care. Next time I go out for a stroll you're coming with me."

Reluctantly they all started moving, Nestor heading for the door, Achilla heading towards Lee, Anders pausing to talk to Callisto about Sue-Shaun's condition, and Dion waiting for instructions. Sighing internally, Lee pushed off the console he was leaning against and mentally started prepping himself for the coming hardships.

"Dion, we're leaving in twenty four hours, get some food, and get some sleep."

Achilla held her tongue until Dion and Nestor were out of the room.

"Sir..."

Lee heard the concern in her voice, she didn't like the idea of him being somewhere where she couldn't watch his back. They had been friends for almost ten years, Lee didn't like it much either, nuclear holocausts tended to inconvenience people.

"I don't trust anyone else to run this bunch of yahoos if I get fragged. You're staying."

She said nothing, just nodded and left the room, leaving Lee a little more depressed than usual. Anders had finished his conversation with the medic, but before he could follow Callisto out the door, Lee stopped him.

"Anders, hold up a minute"

The athlete appeared awkward and a little uncomfortable, the hands at his sides fidgeting against the sportswear. Anders was about to do something Lee hated.

"Listen thanks for..."

"Can it."

The awkwardness was bludgeoned back into the animosity they were both used to. Without preamble Lee started into the issues, he needed Anders to understand the full scope of the situation in which they now found themselves.

"Things are going to get complicated. The people up there are going to get nice and cozy down here and start wanting a say in how things are run. Personally I'd rather just dump you all down here and take my chances rather than delegate the demands of thirty different people."

"And you want my help."

Lee's measurement of Anders comprehension skills was growing by the moment, so was his respect. Not that it had been much to begin with, but, progress was being made.

"You're a natural leader, they'll trust you, and I don't think anyone else could do the job."

"This is a bit more complicated than telling the right guard to go in for a tackle."

Lee would have smiled if he had slept more than two hours in the last week, instead he just nodded and continued.

"Never said it was going to be easy, just saying they'll like your pretty face and soft handed attitude more than my do-it-or-I'll-shoot-you method."

Anders looked down, staring into space, considering for a moment before looking Lee back in the eye.

"If I do this, then it means we get a say in how things are run. None of this do it cause I said so crap."

Lee felt a natural instinct to turn into a drill instructor, where the opinion Anders had was the opinion Lee gave him. It was the perk you got being an officer. Reconsidering that course of action, he instead did something he had only acquiesced to a few times in his life: compromise.

"Naturally."

Confidently the athlete extended his hand.

"Alright."

Without hesitation Lee shook it, but the conversation wasn't over.

"Be sure that you're up for this."

Nodding decisively, Anders dropped lee's hand and started for the door. He threw his response over his shoulder.

"I just said I was."

"Anders."

Lee's voice was devoid of civility or friendliness of any kind. It was the kind of tone you might hear from a jungle cat when another came too close to be respectful. Thick, low and with murderous intent. Tensing Anders instinctively realized, that it was not a good idea to have his back to this man. Looking at Lee's eyes, the athlete struggled to keep his face calm.

"The next time we're in the field and I give you an order, you do it, no questions or I will kill you."

With that Anders was excused.


	7. S1:She's alive

_She's dead._

Lee hadn't been prepared for how bad the crash would be.

It happened almost every time after an intense mission. The body and the mind finally had a conversation, deciding it was a good time to actually work, and all the emotions and feelings that had been blocked came rushing out. So he had been expecting it, just not expecting it to be this bad.

A few hours Lee gave the orders, all the civvies were down in the communal cafeteria eating some of the paste they called food. Almost all of them were seated at long metal tables with equally long attached benches serving as seats. The families were all seated at one table, parents were pretty quiet, preoccupied with getting the kids to eat. The C-bucks had sequestered two tables to themselves. Many were silent, digesting the news that their safety was assured in this new place, while one of their friends was dead. But it didn't stop a few smiles and laughs from being traded every now and again.

After getting their food the squad had scattered, each of his team going to their respective hideaways. Too much to do and not really in the mood for conversation. Lee hadn't been able to grab his food before Anders and his people had settled down to eat. After the cafeteria dispenser had finished filling his cup with water and squirting his food onto his plate, Lee turned to go find a bed in the staff bunk room to eat in peace.

Walking toward the hallway, Lee glanced at a table and saw Deanne with Kacey sitting in her lap, trying to spoon feed the protein paste to the little girl. She wasn't having it, shaking her head each time the spoon came close to her mouth.

_She's dead_

It was the blond hair whipping about in the light that flipped the switch. For whatever reason Lee suddenly thought of her, of those two days, the most amazing of his life. Without warning he felt something building in his chest, and rising up behind his eyes. Before the holocaust he might have been able to internalize it, but this felt like it was going to be too much. Lee's gut clenched, and he knew he had to get out of there before he lost it. Panicking internally, Lee set down his food and water, made a beeline out of the cafeteria and searched for any empty room in the immediate vicinity.

By the time he had locked the door of the small arms locker behind him, Lee was taking heavy breaths, trying to calm himself down.

He couldn't stop thinking about her, the woman that stepped into his life, pulverizing his calm façade, the woman who had left just as quickly. The dread and the pain, along with the regret Lee had been carrying with him since the first bomb fell unlocked and began to overtake him. Gripping the wall shelf in front of him, Lee bowed his head, breathing in slow and deep, balancing on the edge of hysterical.

_She's dead._

Lee had learned this coping mechanism when he was a kid, controlling himself until he was alone, then letting everything out. It wasn't particularly healthy, but it was the way he dealt with things, and it had served it's purpose for years. Funny enough, Lee's job hadn't given him too much to worry about. More often than not, he could process the emotional fallout with a good workout and some sleep.

But this was different, his brother, his little brother, was most likely dead. It was better that he believed Zake was dead, rather than harbour any kind of delusion with no possibility of affermation. That would lead to a breakdown that would cripple him. Lee wasn't a idiot to not try and avoid that kind of calamity. But as smart as it may be, believing the one person in his family he actually still cared about was dead didn't make his heart ache any less terribly.

Despite all the horrible memories of his youth, Lee could still remember a time when his family had been happy, if only for a breaf moment. But those moments had been sealed forever as a the past, and the people who called themselves his family from then on were strangers, their loss only leaving a dull ache.

_She's dead._

The loss of his brother hurt him more deeply than Lee would have thought, the burden of taking responsibility for his sibling, only to have him die, made those four years of raising Zak by himself a waste. And as much as he hated doing it at the time, taking care of his little brother for those few years was a point of pride for Lee. Now that pride was floating in the debris with Zak's corpse orbiting the planet. Moments, the games with Zak, the days feeding him, taking care of him, and their loss that had tears dropping from Lee's eyes.

_She's dead._

The anxiety and turmoil started to perpetuate itself at the thought. The metal underneath his fingers squeaked as his grip tightened, trying to relieve the emotional pressure through physical exertion. The tightness in his muscles coiled from his hands, up his arms to his shoulders. His brother's death depressed him in a way Lee hadn't thought possible, but the mere thought of her death would plunge him into a mental break.

_She's dead._

_She's dead._

His mind felt stuck in repeat, memories flashing faster and faster. Breathing became harder and harder to maintain. The corner of her mouth when she smirked over the cards, the two fingers cradling a cigar she held in her hand, the wrinkle under her eye that only appears when she laughs, all of it accompanied with an ever increasing nameless feeling pushing at his mind. It made Lee afraid, it was the fear of opening a door and not knowing what lay behind it, but knowing that once opened, the door would never close again. He felt like he was going insane.

_She's dead._

_She's dead._

_She's dead._

"No."

It was a soft whisper, but it cut through the silence of the locker with ease. Lee hadn't even been aware he was going to say anything. But that word seemed to have halted the building pressure.

_She's _

"No…"

_breathe_

"…no…"

With each utterance, the storm inside of him dissipated a little more. After a few moments Lee was able to understand what exactly he was saying. He would not believe that she was dead, everyone else maybe, but not her.

_She's alive._

It was stupid, and would probably drive him crazy. But Lee refused to make those two days meaningless by accepting the death of the one woman who meant anything to him. It would catch up to him later, but for now, Lee walked gladly into that land of denial, replacing the old with the new mantra in his head.

Exhausted by the ordeal, Lee shifted his body and fell ass first onto a crate at the base of the shelf he had been gripping moments ago. The initial emotional wave had ebbed leaving Lee with a residual sick anemic feeling all throughout his body. What energy he had left was keeping his body from completely rolling off the crate and onto the floor.

Taking a moment Lee regulated his breathing back to normal, and felt well enough to stand. Scrubbing his face with his hands, he stood up on weak legs and made his way to the cafeteria to pick up his food.

He ate his fill of tasteless food paste, checked the weapons and ammo that they would be taking with them, a heavier assault rifle for Dion and a smaller more accurate weapon for Lee. He even did a tour of the facility to familiarize himself with the layout. The place was a product of it's age, plenty of grit, and very little refinement. Each section of the bunker was compartmentalized by blast doors in case of fire or attack. It was built with long term comfort and defense in mind, and it would suit them well enough.

His wanderings brought Lee to the Medical wing. It was one long corridor with several rooms branching off it, designed for emergencies and functionality. Currently there was one bed moved out from the clean room storage along with a few monitors and an I've drip connected directly to Sue-Shaun. It looked like the woman had been cleaned and given a set of scrubs instead of the sweat soaked athletic wear.

She looked ten times better than the last time he had seen her. Callisto was dressed down to her stained fatigues writing on a clip board when she noticed him enter the room. Lee sat himself down on one of the waiting chairs near the entrance while she finished up. Callisto finished writing and slid the clipboard into a plastic slot at the end of Sue-Shauns bed before taking the seat next to Lee's.

"I never saw you as one of those who visited the sick."

The dirty blond propped her head on her hand, which had her looking at him sideways. For such a serious person she acted more relaxed than most people on his team.

"Never was. What's the situation with the med bay."

She didn't move her eyes from him. He got the eerie feeling that she was assessing him, studying him. But didn't allow a long pause between his question and her answer.

"Good, this place has a good stock, good freezers. Got about every piece of medical equipment we could possibly need. Going to have to read up on some of it, but I should be able to work everything if we need it. Though the blood supply went bad awhile ago, probably going to have to tap the people here, just in case."

He got comfortable, slouching in his seat, his arms resting heavily as he listened to her. One of the benefits of having a well rounded team was if you set it up right you could sit back with very little need for direction. It was going to be integral for the next few days.

"Sounds good. Talk to Achilla and Anders to organize the blood drive."

The medic just nodded, still studying him. Any other day he would have met her stare, but after the day he's had, Lee just stared at the woman in the medical bed. Absently he continued the conversation.

"She going to make it?"

For the first time Callisto turned her eyes away from him and to the injured woman. Her head still supported by her hand.

"She'll be fine. Started her up on antibiotics and put her out with a shot of morphine for the pain."

Head resting on the back of his seat Lee nodded his head. Still unconsciously speaking his mind.

"She's tough, stupid, but tough."

"Yeah well, she'll most likely lose some mobility in her arm, but that's probably the least of our worries."

The medic turned her head back to Lee. Her face different now than what it had been before, an expression that spoke of a preparation for something that was going to be unpleasant.

"What about you sir?"

Turning his head slightly, Lee looked at the woman next to him. He had never seen a equal mixture of assessment and concern in someone's face before. Not willing to give anything unnecessary away, Lee dodged.

"What about me?"

A little of the concern in Callisto's face dropped, her head lifting from her hand in irritation. Lee knew right away he had hit the nerve designated 'macho shit' something that often frustrated Callisto in the armed forces.

"Saw you jump into equipment locker on the way to lunch, pale, sweaty and ready to crash. Looked like DTS, but you don't take stims. So before I declare you unfit, why don't you tell me what it is exactly you don't want everyone to see."

That was what happened when someone screwed around with Callisto, if you didn't answer a direct question you might end up with some body parts missing. Didn't stop Lee from avoiding the question.

"I'm not sick."

"Didn't say you were."

Too tired to play a game of wits with someone who was more emotionally together than he was, and not willing to avoid any further, , Lee gave in. He looked her straight in the eye.

"Docs say I suffer from emotional repression. I suppress my emotions until something triggers it and I get a fallout. Long periods cause suppressed immune system, and a greater susceptibility to infection."

The frustration left her face at the admission, and the stone determination left her voice as well.

"It's been in your file awhile, but this is the first time I've seen a symptom."

This time his gaze left her, turning his face to the front, his eyes straight ahead, not wanting to see her when Lee admitted more than he ever had to anyone in two years.

"I've been dealing with this since before I signed up. I've been able to manage it."

It sounded a little hollow now after his near mental breakdown, but it was true, It hadn't been that bad since his childhood, when he was taking care of Zak while his mother was drinking herself into a coma.

"Eight years ago, I was stationed at a medical unit on Picon in the Libera province. Worked as a trauma surgeon, back when the guilds owned the government there. They started competing and before anyone knew what was going on there was an all out war on the streets."

Callisto wasn't looking at Lee, her eyes unfocused on a spot in front of her as the memories played through her mind. Lee remembered when he heard about that. Five days of intense fighting before one of the guild leaders was captured, tried and executed. The other guilds fell back in line real quick when they found they weren't outside the law. It was a lesson at the cost of thousands of lives and homes. Using the pause, Lee related.

"Heard about that, Picon government came down hard on them. Lot of casualties."

Callisto gave a small nod.

"The night after an artillery strike was the worst. A shell hit an apartment complex, full of poor people who couldn't leave the area. Kid died with my hands in his chest. But there wasn't time to grieve, there was another person waiting with shrapnel in her leg, threatening to bleed out. Afterwards, I fell hard, harder than I ever had, sobbing my little brain out, and if there wasn't someone standing next to me, I wouldn't have been able to get back up."

Lee felt a surge of sympathy rise in him, something rare in his line of work. With it came a new found respect he had for Callisto. She had managed to deal with the one thing he had never conquered: failure. When he was a kid, failure meant you weren't trying hard enough. And even when he was failing his classes in lieu of taking care of his little brother, Lee had always taken it to heart that he wasn't good enough for either task. If he had been in the same situation as Callisto had been, Lee didn't think he could have handled it.

"So you're saying I should cry on Dion's shoulder."

The joke got a slight smile out of the medic, but didn't bring her out of her thousand mile stare.

"No, but Section eight was next on my list of destinations. There was no where to unwind, we were in the middle of a war zone. But I opened up a bit to the people watching my back, and the falls were a little less hard."

They didn't speak for a beat. When Lee broke the silence, his voice was rough with sincerity.

"You read my file when you joined my team as the medic. Why tell me this now."

Callisto turned to him, wearing a small smile, the vacant look finally gone from her eyes.

"Because before, you could go to a bar for some floozy to frak."

It was the first genuine, full bellied laugh she'd ever heard from him. Lee was so tired, so emotionally wrung out that when she made the joke, he didn't have the presence of mind to care, and just laughed. The expression on Callisto's face made him laugh harder, and without realizing it Lee spoke.

"Callisto, I'm glad you're on my team."

The raised eyebrows and stunned expression turned into the biggest smile he had ever seen on her face. And soon she was laughing with him. When they were done, their breaths coming in gasps, they sat contented. Soon enough the world and reality of the situation would back to them. But after the moment they just shared, it wouldn't be nearly as bleak. If they died, they were going to die in good company.

Feeling back to sorts, but bone tired, Lee climbed out of the chair and made his way to the door.

"Get some rest, Callisto."

He heard as he walked down the hall.

"Same to you, sir."

Lee fully intended to, for a few years at least.


	8. S1:What's in a name

Lee was going to kill Dion.

He was going to take his gun, point it at the base of his skull and blow out the front of the man's face if he didn't stop whistling.

It wasn't exactly whistling, more a slight muttering of a song, a tune that was slowly driving it's way into Lee's brain. He had been in an excellent mood. He had slept more than three hours, his stomach was satisfied, though his taste buds weren't, and he had taken a gods blessed shower. It was colder than frak, but it was clean water running over him, washing away the week old stink. Though they didn't have time to start up the wash cycle, so his fatigues were still smelly as hell.

The topper was that Lee had dreamed of her. Course it left him the predicament of waking up hard enough to chip marble, but a few moments of remembering her hips took care of that.

When he and Dion suited up and started the trek, Lee was calm, cool and could smile if he chose to let himself. But the mission itself bothered him, going without a medic, or the rest of his team. Add on top of that eighteen hours of walking towards Delphi, rough terrain, and Dion's off key muttering. Murder was beginning to sound really good.

Gripping his gun a little tighter, Lee tried to distract himself with the surroundings, it was midday, you could hear a bird or two twitter, nature deciding to return to some kind of normal. The calm around him allowed lee to recall the dream he had earlier and its origins.

They met in a shitty bar five years ago playing triad. Lee had taken a liking to the game, and was using his ability to read people to his advantage. He managed to get a good pile of chips when he heard the noisy blond walk in with a few of her friends. It surprised Lee since it wasn't really the place for flyboys.

He could tell from the cut of their uniform and invincible attitudes that they were pilots. If they hadn't been preoccupied with making a racket, they would have noticed that this was a marine bar, and not one of the nicer ones. They tended to be a little insulted when you walked into their bar and weren't a part of the core.

When Lee had walked in, all the regulars wanted to do was take his money, simply because he was in special ops. But with those flyboys, there might have been an all out fight. He didn't mind it at the time, a decent brawl was one of things Lee had begun to appreciate as a good stress reliever.

The three marines in front of him were convict recruits, people given the choice between prison or service. Tattoos up to their necks, mean caveman brows, and each with a nose that had been broken at least three times. Each had an axe to grind, taking it out on Lee by taking all his money. That hadn't been much of a problem since the man to the left quirked his eyebrow whenever he had a good hand, the middle man shuffled his cards whenever he was in a bluff, and the man on the right was three sheets to the wind.

The distraction had cost him the hand though. Lee hadn't cared, considering who he was looking at. She was obviously the one who had achieved whatever victory they were out celebrating. Her hair was short, to her ears, her flight dress blues opened in the front revealing the usual undershirt/t-shirt combo that most pilots wore.

Lee instantly liked her face. Something that he never cared to share with any of his fellow soldiers, who were usually all about tits, ass, or abs; Lee was all about the face. If you couldn't wake up next to the person without screaming, then what was the point of having a good body. Not that she had to make up for anything.

Well rounded in all areas to say the least.

But her face was what struck him first, and made the lasting impression, round cheeks, slightly blunt nose, full lips, strong jaw and eyes that knew too much.

Lee learned most about a person from their face, and in hers, he saw a beautiful tragedy. It wasn't her laugh, or the jokes she made with her friends. It was the look she got when her friends turned to their own conversations, leaving her to her own thoughts. The look in her eyes as she stared into her brew. A person who was cocky as hell, strong, but vulnerable to anyone who caught the small moments in between.

After losing a third hand Lee got back into the game, deciding that any attempts to pick up the woman at the bar would end with him going home alone. After two more hands, one where Lee made back most of what he lost, he heard her speak for the first time.

"If you don't mind me askin sir, I can't figure why, out of all the people to bring along, you chose me."

Dion's voice pulled him from the memory. In irritation Lee threw him a glare.

He considered stonewalling, but it didn't quite feel right, it taking more effort to parry Dion's questions than just giving in. After the conversation with Callisto, it didn't seem worth all the energy just to keep appearances. But it didn't mean he'd sugarcoat the truth.

"The civvies need Callisto for meds, Nestor to maintain the place, and Achilla's the only other one in the team I would trust to lead them if I got fragged. We're expendable. "

In his peripheral Lee could see Dion's slightly stunned expression, never having received a straight forward answer without more haggle.

"Wow, make me feel all sorts of important. Why not just grab a civvie and let me sleep for a few more days?"

Looking back at Dion, Lee felt it was time to try some honesty of a different kind.

"I don't trust any of those civvies not to crumble under the pressure."

Dion stumbled, if only slightly, and it got a smile on Lee's face.

"Also if we find more civvies I don't want to be the one stuck dealing with them."

That got a laugh out Dion. One of the few moments where they both wore a smile at the same time.

"So what, I'm just the pretty face of this team? I mean I always knew, but hearing it from my commanding officer, it'll set my life forward in ways I've never imagined."

If he listened carefully, he could detect a little bit of wonder in Dion's voice. Lee thought about bringing the smile back for round two, but instead kept his face straight and calm. There were limits to how much he was willing to loosen up.

"You done?"

"Nope. Where'd you get the tattoo?"

That good humor from loosening up was shriveling back into that large field of irritation he had been tromping through moments ago.

"Why all the questions Sergeant?"

Shrugging without looking at Lee, Dion had no problem being dramatic while simultaneously scanning the area for possible enemy contact. At this point Lee knew it was an unconscious habit.

"Oh I don't know. Maybe it's the yellow tinted sky, the radiation in the air, or the impending death, just thought I actually might pounce on the chatty mood you're in. Doesn't happen too often. Also I've always wondered where that tattoo comes from, you and Achilla have it. You two don't seem like the kind of guys to get inked, sir."

Lee had known what kind of soldier Dion was, deadly, efficient, type A personality. All of which did well in this line of work. Furthermore he got along with others in the team, using jokes as a way to lighten the mood, someone everyone could get a long with. A lot of the time it was hit and miss on whether you'll actually get along with the others in your squad. Dion cared about people, especially his team. Something that Lee had to limit himself on. So that when the time came, he would be able to order one of his squad to their deaths for the success of the mission. Now the mission was survival, making the wall between Lee and the rest of the team an obstacle instead of a tool.

"Before Colonial Security, Achilla and I were a part of a special ops squad called the Myrmidons, specializing in anti terrorism, I was a captain and she was a sergeant. Was under the command of Major Josiah Ironsides, good man. Everyone in the squad got this tattoo."

Lee hadn't talked about Joe or the Myrmidons in almost a year. Only time he ever mentioned them was on the anniversary he and Achilla celebrated with a drink. The clipped nature of Lee's voice must have signaled Dion that it wasn't the end of the story.

"What happened to them?"

It was a casual question, but the answer was going to be hard for Lee, wasn't a good memory to go over, and he made no effort to cover that in his voice.

"Most, including Ironsides, got fragged during a op gone wrong in the Saggitarian demilitarized zone. The others transferred, or just went nuts. "

Lee wasn't looking at him, but he could see that Dion was eyeing him. Probably wondering if Lee was crazy himself, or just really good at hiding it. Psychiatrists had been assigned to the survivors after the battle, but they had all been frustrated by Lee. He and psychiatrists didn't get along, since pills seemed to be their main mode of dealing with soldiers issues. Hell even before signing up, Lee had managed to get the high school counselor to call him a frak up.

"Going after the Saggitaron Nationalist Separatists. Must have been hard."

Dion's voice had dropped any humor, but didn't have the audacity to be sympathetic. Understanding that unless he had watched his own squad slaughtered in front of him, he couldn't know what it was like for Lee. The Major respected Dion a little more just for that.

"Wasn't easy."

It hadn't been easy in the least, but Lee had been lucky enough to have Achilla, those few good memories to fall back on. It was then that Lee understood what his instructor had meant, holding onto that one thing. And after he watched his commanding officer get sliced up by crossfire, Lee held on for dear life.

Dion got the idea that there wasn't going to be any further conversation, and Lee was allowed to drift back into his memories.

'Deal me in'

That was the first thing he'd ever heard her say. Without asking she sat herself down in the empty chair, as if these four men who outweighed her by a hundred pounds had nothing on her at all.

The shuffler said something rude about the only way she would play was if she was bouncing on his lap. Her brilliant response had been:

'Yeah well that's if you could get it out of your mother's mouth for more than a few seconds.'

At that point three sheets burst out laughing, dropping his cards onto the table, the shuffler's face turned beet red, and I could tell he was two seconds from starting a fight, for which she seemed more than ready. Eyebrow decided to laugh and calm his friend down, saying they should let her play, speaking in a tone that Lee didn't quite like. A tone that said they would meet her in the alley later on. Lee decided that wasn't going to happen.

When her eyes met his, Lee couldn't help the small smile that snuck onto his face.

Hands were dealt, money was lost and gained, and no one spoke a word. Except for a few expletives when a hand was lost.. Soon enough it was clear that she had a luck that was damn occult. Eyebrow and Shuffler, with their money dwindling, started drinking more and more, their plans changing from meeting her in the alley, to passing out and meeting the floor. Three sheets had left awhile back when he discovered that he couldn't play if he didn't have any money. The two left hadn't really noticed much.

The blond quickly found out that even though she was luck incarnate, Lee could read people better and he pulled out all the stops. The money was soon just shifting back and forth, at a constant stalemate. The stakes rose higher and higher, and the bets more outrageous.

The heat was palpable. The downside of having to read her was the fact that her body was probably the most distracting thing he'd ever seen. And gods damn she knew it. Lee nearly lost everything in one hand when she slipped off her jacket to reveal the curve of her shoulders.

Not an unnecessary word was passed between them, which seemed odd to Lee since her invincible attitude didn't lend to silence. She seemed, with her slight smirk, quirked eyebrow and set of her shoulders, to be a taunter, a gloater. Trying to distract and unbalance her opponents. But with the conversation that was going on with their eyes, Lee was content that she hadn't spoken.

Her eyes barely left his, constantly challenging him, trying to see how far Lee was willing to go. The blond met each challenge, folding when he had a good hand, raising when he was bluffing. He met her step for step, raise, fold, and call, like a dance. With the way she was looking at him, it was more like sex. It was one of the best times he'd ever had, and gods he had fought hard to keep the night going.

The defining moment came when one of her friends came up from behind to tell her that they were leaving. The blond hadn't hesitated telling her friend she'd catch a cab. After her comrades left the bar, the mood changed from competition to pursuit. They sat for a moment, the noise of the bar a distant hum, her eyes shifting into something predatorial. If he had looked in the mirror, Lee would have seen his own eyes had the same look. Her final bet was everything she had, and while pushing her chips forward, she spoke for the first time in an hour.

'Never did get your name.'

That smile that had snuck up on him before returned.

'Lee'

Pushing all his chips in to match her bet, he replied in kind.

'Yours?'

The smile that had spread across her face told Lee that he had done something right.

"So why no nicknames?"

Lee was going to kill Dion.

AN: Sorry that I've been out of the loop for awhile, after a bought of sickness, and the ever dissappointing series finale of Battlestar, I had a little trouble motivating myself to continue. But no worries I'm still writing and working on chapter nine as we speak. Thank you to my beta's for reading my fic, and giving me great input.


	9. S1:Insignificant Life

Lee stayed low to the ground as he ran for dear life. The telltale sound of bullets slicing through the woods popping in his ears while branches and fallen trees crunched under his feet. The sweat cooling on his forehead as the air rushed past him. Dion was two meters in front of him, crouching next to a tree, using it to stabilize his weapon as he fired the high calliber rifle. The repeat drowning out the impact sounds, throwing up debris in his face as he ran.

The bullet impacts ceased right as he passed Dion's position, the soldier having scored a kill on the toaster firing on their position. Not slowing for a step, Lee ran three meters past the other soldier and immediately crouched next to the tree he had marked six meters ago. Looking through the sight, he took aim at the nearest silver monster and began firing. Three short bursts in rapid succession, making the older weapon kick hard into his shoulder. Lee's target sparked as the bullet impacts dented, richocheted, and penetrated the thick armor.

Apparently whoever designed these new upgraded Centurians banked on them using anti personell ammo. The bullets Lee and Dion used tore the toasters up, the rounds contained a dense core of depleted uranium, survived the initial punch through the armor, and sharpened on the way in.

"...team's almost there. Everett, cover the flank damnit!"

A few seconds after Lee started firing, Dion took his cue and relocated, spotting a new position six meters away and making a beeline for it as quickly as he could. Once there Lee knew he would have to get up and repeat the process again. The point of the maneuver was to keep moving, never presenting the enemy with a stationary target. Perfect for when a smaller force was engaging larger numbers.

"...the frak is that coming from?!!"

The larger force consisted of twelve silver robots chasing down seventeen civvies. Or at least what looked like civvies at first glance. Their formation and their use of military grade weaponry spoke of some kind of training. The robots were Cylons, there was not a doubt in Lee's mind. The basic design of the armor and faceplates remincent of the pictures in history class, but with obvious upgrades. Lee felt the silent hope he'd harbourd in his stomach die. He managed to pop another two kills before hearing Dion's gunfire and had to find another spot.

"...your trap!! It could be Aphrodite shooting lightning out her ass, JUST KEEP MOVING!!!!"

Lee and Dion had been were nearing the Stilbe river that boardered the Delphi suburbs when they heard the gunfire. The river ran like a fence between the city and the high hills surrounding it. Then approached from the hills; reaching the ridge overlooking the river, flat plains and suburbs beyond, they were able to observe the terrain below.

The pair had come upon a section of the Stilbe that had meandered some years ago, curving like a rope with two points pushed together. The crest of the river cut into the hillside, leaving in its wake a bulge of grassland where a few trees taking root. The two river bends of the river semi-circled only thirty meters away from eachother.

They arrived along the nearest bank of the river's curve and was able to get a good side view of the firefight going on below. The immediacy of the situation coupled with his and Dion's highground advantage, required that Lee make a split second decision. His fifth sprint took him along the ridge to the middle of the curve where the river cut into the forrest hills.

"...Frak you!!! You godless frakking pieces of shit!"

The Cylons had pushed the group into the bulge, bottlenecking them and limiting any escape by crossing the river. Whoever led those people was either a civvie or an incompetant soldier. With no cover to speak of, and the water looking thigh deep, the Cylons would be putting these people out of their misery soon.

Lee kept his breathing even as he dropped to one knee next to a boulder. Through the short range scope on his gun showed three civvies get shot. One black haired male caught a bullet in the temple, sheering off the top part of his skull, spraying the woman running next to him. As he quickly found his target, Lee swore he saw the woman, shaved head shining in the sun, snarl, turn and shoot at the Cylon behind her. Lee immediately aimed at her target, ready to fire when one of her bullets caught the Cylon in the visor, dropping it to the ground. Without waiting to marvel at the herluck or tenacity, he moved on to the next target trying to split the attention of the toasters, and possibly buy the idiots down there a moment to actually get it together and retreat.

Dion and Lee cut the attacking numbers in half, but six against fourteen was a slaughter when the larger force was running away like armed and drunk antelope.

"...out of there Richard! Fall back!!"

Instead of covering their asses, most of the civvies tried to cross the river without forming a rear defense. Leaving those with the sense of mind to do so with no support. From the quick glances Lee could manage between shots, this idiotic maneuver was due to a salty hair man leading the scramble across the river. The water was actually hip deep, caused their retreat to become a standstill shooting gallery.

Splashes shot up all around them from the bullets hitting the water, red droplets staining the muddy waters as people fell left and right. Their bodies jerking unnaturally as the bullets tore through them.

Lee paused for the briefest of. This was an emotion he had only felt once before. His guts soured, a weak feeling in his limbs ached as the demand for action pulled on his bones, yelling at him to get up and do something. The grit mixed with the sweat on his face, making him want to crawl out of his own skin, making the helpless feeling of watching the train wreck unfold in front of him soaking into his soul all the more horrible.

The moment didn't have a chance to take root before Lee jammed the feeling back into that black cancerous organ he would have to deal with later. Out of the fourteen that had went into the river eight made it to the other side. Now all they had to do was make the trek up a twenty foot hill that looked to be a forty-five degree incline. Dion's gunfire signaled another six meter dash. Four toasters left and low on survivors, Lee spotted a tree that had fallen length wise down the hill, right on the edge of the ridge. The roots created an eight by eight foot shield with a nice crater for cover. Not stopping his sprint, Lee activated the radio mic attached to his collar.

"Dion! Blue smoke, Blue smoke!"

Digging out the metal cylinder, pulling the pin, Lee hurled it near the crater, and soon a drift of blue smoke began to waft from the spot. Lee immediately took up position next to the exposed roots and fired at the oncoming Cylons.

"…to the blue smoke! Everyone hurry the frak up!"

"It could be the Cylons!"

"Shut up Everett and get your dumbass self in gear!"

The problem with using a smoke signal was that now everyone in a mile radius knew their location. Lee scored another kill, leaving three toasters across the river. Said toasters apparently became aware of the probability that they might fail their objective and began firing on Lee's position, forcing him to take cover behind the tree roots. From what he could see, the weapons were built into the machines' arms, so he couldn't wait for a reload to return fire. Looking to his left, Lee saw Dion approaching quickly. When the big man finally jumped into the crater, Dion quickly made his way to the other side of the root shield.

Soon enough people started coming around the tree and dropping into the crater, breathless and panting. Lee was doing an unconscious count, and noticed they were down two people. Taking a quick glance through the tangled roots, Lee cursed silently at the fact the woman with the shaved head was ten feet away trying to drag a man up the hill. The man had a hole in his back and wouldn't make it even if they had a medic with them. Dirt and shredded grass flew around the two as one of the three centurians took aim at the two exposed targets.

"Are we getting out of here or what!?"

Lee didn't look back, just watched the woman snarling, screaming at the injured man to get up. But he could tell from the salty hair's voice that he was itching to get the hell out of the hole.

"Everett! Ash and Samson are still out there!"

The young man's voice was raw from screaming, loss shaking each word.

"Samson is dead, and if Ash is going to commit suicide, that's her choice. But we are not going to die here with her!"

From the tone of the words, Lee knew the man called Everett would abandon anyone just to get away. It was the fear in his voice, that heart clenching fear that would make Everett tear his own mother's face off if it meant surviving.

"You mother frakkin bastard!"

Turning back to the group in front of him, Lee noticed the young man was being restrained by a burly looking woman. Everett was flinching unnecessarily, since the boy was three feet away from even touching him. More likely it was an effect of the shock going through his system. The other four civvies were confused, lost, and more than one had silent tears running down their faces. They were lambs now, and he would get nothing out of them at this point. Glancing to the ground he noticed a small thing, a sprout, alive and green in the dry upturned dirt at the bottom of the crater. He couldn't tear his eyes away from this tiny bud of life. A plant at the bottom of a hole where a mighty tree once stood.

Suddenly he could remember the feel of her lips on his. The way her blond hair felt between his fingers. The wet rasp of her tongue against his. The warmth of her breath against his skin. The world around him slowed as Lee felt the decision he was about to make alter his perception of time. Sound rounded, passing by, bending to avoid him. The only thing reaching his ears was Ash's scream for Samson to get up. Lee's focus moved to Dion, connecting with the man's light blue eyes for a moment. The man must have figured what Lee was about to do because his eyes widened comically.

Lee was half way down the hill before he actually realized he was moving. He could hear over the din of Dion's gunfire the man cursing his mother for raising such an idiot. But Lee paid no attention to the irony. When he reached the two, Ash had the dying man's arm over her shoulder and was dragging him up the hill at a snails pace. Without missing a beat, Lee lifted the other arm over his shoulder and started back up the hill as fast as the dead weight he was supporting would allow. A bullet hit a stone in front of them sending chips of rock into the air. One shard sliced the side of Lee's face, gouging along his cheekbone and ripping off a chunk of his ear.

Two feet from the crater the firing stopped, Dion had taken out the last three centurions. Dropping back into the crater, Lee fell back against the dirt wall, panting as the adrenaline started exiting his system. Dion was immediately beside the injured man. With a basic field medic experience and the few pointers Callisto had given before they left, Dion was able to deduce the bullet had blown a hole through the man's lung. There was nothing he could do. Dion's eyes locked with Lee's for a moment, confirming what Lee already knew to be true. The woman named Ash, with dirt on her face, her tears leaving streaks of wet skin exposed, was clutching Samson's hand, her gaze locked with his as if the force of her will would keep him alive.

Lee watched with dispassionate eyes as the man on the ground sputtered blood onto the woman's tear stained cheeks. Slowly the death throes ceased and the body that once was Samson stared at nothing. There was a moment of silence and tension, no one wanted to break it for fear of some unknown calamity that would bear down upon them.

Of course Everett was the first to speak.

"Can we please get out of here."

Before anyone could blink, Ash was on top of him, screaming, and socking him in the face.

"YOU PIG FRAKKIN SON OF BITCH!!! I'LL KILL YOU!!!"

Dion managed to pull her off, but only after she bloodied Everett's nose. She struggled furiously against Dion's iron grip, but soon enough though the anger and rage ebbed, and she sagged against his shoulder. The pig frakker Everett simply didn't know when to keep his mouth shut; he started spewing insults while cradling his bloody nose.

"You frakkin bitch! I should have left you there whe..."

Closing Samson's eyes, Lee looked at the dead man's face. Lost in his thoughts , he had blocked out the sounds of the squabbling civvies. He knew where this situation would lead. They wouldn't be able to do a recon with these people tromping around the place, fighting each other at every turn. Lee couldn't turn them loose, because they obviously couldn't be trusted to keep themselves alive. He'd saved one group, so he might as well save another. Lee couldn't scrap the mission either; if there was a chance of getting any information they had to take it, the fresher the look at the situation the better the intel.

Lee would have to go it alone.

No one could ever accuse him of dwelling. The dead man Samson was wearing dogtags, confirming that at least on of the group was some kind of soldier. Snapping off the second of the pair of tags, Lee turned his focus to the people behind him. Ash was still clinging to Dion, glaring at the pig frakker Everett with a look of hate that matched Achilla's when she was about to gut someone. The useless lump was still cradling his nose, focused on the pain in his head more than the want to flee, the rest were in various stages of shock. Lee mentally cursed himself for not acting faster, his own musings had cost him time.

"Alright, get yourselves together and ready to move."

"Who do you think you are?"

Lee understood the need that compelled Everett, to run as far away as fast as possible, with no direction or plan. But it didn't stop Lee from suddenly grabbing the man by his collar and lifting him off the ground till their faces were inches apart.

"We're the guys who saved your frakkin dumbshit self. Now shut the frak up and get moving."

None to gently dropping the man to the dirt, Lee silently wished he was dealing with Anders instead. Which only served to piss him off more. Walking over to the enraged but sorrowful woman still mourning her friend, he held out his hand. Not quite understanding, Ash hesitantly put her open hand in his. Without saying a word, he dropped the dead man's tag into her hand. Her expression was conflicted between despair and thanks.

Lee and Dion climbed out of the crater after the group stumbled over the lip of the crater. Lee took a moment to actually look at the new stock that would be joining the bunker population. Four men, and three women, each in civilian dress, all in fairly good shape, some more than others. Three brunettes, two blonds, one red head and a salty haired prick. Dion began hearding them towards the woods and away from the river. He walked with them for awhile, Dion eyeing him oddly, understanding that something was off. Emboldened by the previous day's conversation, he broached the subject before Lee could fill him in.

"We scrapping the recon sir?"

Certain that Dion would object, Lee set his face in stone.

"Nope, you're going to take these civvies back to the bunker. I'm going to stay here and finish the recon."

Dion opened his mouth, but noticed the change in Lee's demeanor, and thankfully didn't question his decision. When it seemed everyone was together, Lee peeled off moving north along the river. He paused a moment and looked at the group as they got smaller and smaller.

Dion turned once, and it was to shout, much to Lee's chagrin.

"What do I tell Achilla!"

Smirking, Lee responded.

"Don't send anyone after me."

With those parting words Lee started towards Delphi, noticing for the first time that he was missing a piece of his ear.

AN: This was a hard one to write because of some health issue's, and personal events. I'm still going on with this story, it just might take a bit.


	10. S1:Two moments meeting

WARNING: Contains disturbing imagery

The sun shone brightly through the yellow tinted morning. The air was cold, but the light warmed everything around it, creating a fine mist drifting through the ivy on the ground. The birds chirped in the trees, though fewer and farther away now that they had less competition in the world. Lee sat at the base of a tree staring at his wrists. He rifle was propped against the tree at his side, his combat vest was unzipped, his helmet on the ground beside his knee

It wasn't a battle ready stance, but it suited his mood . He had spent two full days in the city and had effectively managed to avoid detection. Two full days of re-con, and he had encountered horrors that more and more reminded him of the bad days in the service.

The first enemy sighting had been a group of survivors herded by Cylons out of the suburbs on the outskirts of delphi. From under cover, Lee followed their movements with his high rez binoculars. The women were separated from the men and taken to an unknown destination, while the men were taken into the fields surrounding the matchbox houses. Lee had spotted a smoke plume on the horizon, and soon realized they were burning bodies in a giant pyre.

People, bloody, dirty, still dressed in the clothes they had probably worn the same day of the attack, were taking bodies from smaller piles and throwing them onto the raging fire like firewood. When the new batch of civvies arrived, they were grouped in a tight circle and shot, their bodies piling on to of each-other. Lee watched a young boy make a break for it during the execution, hair bouncing as he ran, tearstained cheeks glinting in the sun. He managed three yards before his chest exploded outward in a mist of blood.

The dirty civvies had calmly begun tossing the new pile of bodies into the fire, indicating to Lee that this wasn't the first execution that they had witnessed. He noticed several other columns of smoke interspersed across the horizon.

Lee had moved on after watching a man, crying, pick up the boy and carry him back to where the others lay. Intending to continue toward the city to ascertain the fate of the civilian women, knowing that inside, he really didn't want to know.

His dispassion grew as he noticed there were no patrols, no security check points, no fortifications. The only discernable activity was the occasional flyby of a new kind of Cylon fighter and the sporadic gunfire in the distance.

The message was loud and clear.

They were beaten.

The Cylons had no need to prepare possible defenses because there was no possibility of a human counter-attack. Wholly depressing, but useful because he had unknowingly caugh up to the group of female civilians without running into any resistance. Twenty women pushed forward by twelve machines. Lee followed with his binoculars for as long as he could before their distance would have required a change location. The group dissappeared into what looked to be an old hospital about three miles north on the outskirts of town. Alone and without provisions, there was nothing he could do.

The rest of the re-con passed in much the same way, gunfire throughout the night and day, people rounded up, separated and either shot or moved to different facilities. Lee had managed to glimpse the location of the 'work force'. Looked to be about three hundred men and women, none of them under forty or over sixty. It confused him, the age range for the work force, the gender selections, all questions that couldn't be answered .

Finding nothing but growing horrors and death, Lee began the trek back to the bunker, only stopping once to rest. He had been awake for two days straight, and before that, an entire week. It was when Lee finally stopped walking, forest all around him, that the enormity and utter hopelessness of the situation washed over him. He fell back against the tree exhausted and slid down to its base. His need for comfort outweighed his caution and soon his helmet and weapon were cast aside. As he unzipped his combat vest, the overwhelming exhaustion that had brought him to the ground focussed the reality of his situation..

It made him slump further against the tree, his head tilting back to rest on the bark. His upturned face catching a ray of sun through the trees. Lee glanced down and caught a sliver of silver skin peaking out from his sleeve.

Lee's thumb lightly ran along the scar on his wrist. They didn't hurt much anymore, although sometimes he felt the stiff scar tissue move differently than the rest of his flesh. He didn't focus on it since the scar had ten brothers and sisters, between one and three inches long, running every which way, all down his forearm. The scars were closer and more concentrated along the side that ran from his elbow to his pinky. Lee's other forearm mirrored the composition but not the pattern. He managed not to have severed a tendon, and had been lucky enough to have missed most of his veins.

He'd nearly died that day, blood weeping out of dozens of wounds, fingers slipping on the buttons of the phone while trying not to pass out, dialing desperately to get help.

When he was young, Lee had considered killing himself a few times. Especially when he was taking care of Zak, everyone and their mother working against him, making everyday a new kind of misery. But that day, the choice between life and death had been nearly made for him. And after, he'd never thought of ending his life again.

Lee knew that he would meet death soon enough.

Knowledge that few possessed, a knowledge that dissolved any delusion of invincibility or immortality.

Death was a certainty in life. How long you lived, on the other hand, was anyones guess. It had been his only inner turmoil after leaving home and joining the service. When the decision came up to re-up and continue his military career, Lee had spent an entire day trying to answer the question that he was asking again now.

What would he do with what life he had left?

At the time he had chosen a life in the military, feeling he didn't belong anywhere else, already nurturing a healthy disgust for the weakness of most civvies and their 'moral' world. Vowing never to be that weak again, Lee opted for a life where he was challenged, accepted, and could enjoy his work.

But the cylon attack introduced an entirely different set of circumstances. There was no hope, no resistance, no chance. And sitting there, rubbing at the scars that changed his life forever, Lee pondered whether or not he wanted to spend what little time he had left dealing with a bunch of civvies in a hole in the ground. Looking up toward Delphi, he knew that it would only be a matter of time before the Cylons found them, a year, ten, maybe a hundred, but sooner or later the Cylons would find them and end their already short lives.

The idea that he would spend the time between then and now regulating the petty squabbles of a bunch of sniveling civvies made him cringe. A nice life in the woods till the toasters found him and put a bullet through his head sounded a whole lot better. Lee knew that if he didn't leave them now, he never would. He would stay and carry them until the end, and Lee desperately wanted to avoid.

Much to his ire, Lee heard his father's voice in his head. Reminding in gruff, gravelly tones that used to frighten him as a child, that he had a responsibility to those that look to him for leadership and guidance. A concept so ingrained that it was as involuntary as breathing. Squeezing his eyes shut, Lee tried to spare himself a few more moments before he allowed the truth to enter.

The sensation of his thumb trailing across his scarred flesh triggered a memory that cut suddenly into his train of thought.

This was how she had woken him up that first day. After the triad game, after the drive to the nearby motel, after several bouts of some of the best sex he'd ever had, Lee had awoken to her thumb lightly running along one of the scars on his wrist. His skin prickled and puckered at the sensation of being caressed. He remembered feeling a little too happy that she hadn't run off that morning as was scripted for their kind of encounter.

But something had changed the night before.

They had been going at it hard and fast, on the wall, the table, the bed. Competing against each other like the card game, constantly vying for dominance. Reveling in the feel of sweat and skin, when without even trying, they suddenly came simultaneously. He'd needed a moment to regain his bearings, reeling from a feeling, deeper and more powerful than he'd ever felt before.

Like a piece of him had dislodged, a part that felt old and hidden away, fell and connected with something that rang true. A tone that resonated within his soul. And when she opened her eyes he'd known that she felt the same.

The smile that had immediately lit her face served to get him hard again, and soon they were going, sliding, sighing, moaning, laughing, kissing, trying desperately to find that connection again.

Laying beside her, feeling her thumb glide gently against his worst memories did tapped something inside, two defining moments meeting each-other, and changing the other.

The memory filled him with a calm, rousing a determination that had been weighed down by the horrors of the past few days. As much as Lee disliked the idea of spending the last few days of his life listening to a bunch of whiney civvies, he wasn't about to let the gods beat him into submission with burdens.

It was a thought he had often when faced with hopeless struggles. If the fates were going to add more rocks to the pile he was already carrying, hobbling him down to a crawl, eventually crushing him to death, Lee's only words would be 'more weight'. It may piss off the gods, but they hadn't been his friends in the first place.

With renewed certainty Lee stood, collecting his gear, and setting out for the bunker. Disoriented from his musings it took a moment before he realized that it was nightfall. The lack of light would make the trek back harder but the longer he took to get back, the more pissed Achilla was going to be.

It didn't take long before he saw a flickering light to his left in the distance. The soft sounds of voices coming from the distance. Not one to be reckless, Lee slowed and silently approached.

"…god if I have to eat another stale MRE, it'll be the last thing I do."

Hidden behind the cover of a shrub and a tree, Lee was able to identify two people, a male and a female about four yards from his position. Remembering the look of flight gear, he identified them as flyboys. Lee cursed his luck, flyboys were only two steps better than civvies, navy boys and local guard falling in between as the people who irritated the frak out of him.

"…Battlestar wasn't much better."

The man had a strong jaw, high forehead, and pale skin against short black hair. The woman had longer black hair, pulled into a bun with bangs, lower eyelids straight, giving a slant to her eyes, and large cheekbones wrapped in an olive complexion. He caught the way they looked at each other, nearly rolling his eyes at the puppy love going on between them. It was new enough that there was an awkwardness, forcing idle conversation.

"How long do you think it'll take to get to the airfield?"

That got Lee's attention, they were going to the local airfield. Why? If they weren't shot out of the sky on the way up, there was no place to go, no place safe anyway. His face twitched uncontrollably with frustration as he resigned himself to saving another couple of idiots.

"Should probably get there by tomorrow."

Slowly making his way towards them, keeping as silent as possible, holding out on revealing himself until the last possible moment, he noticed that the man's brow was furrowed, probably becoming aware of the same problem with the plan Lee had already deduced.

"Then what?"

Straightening to his full height, Lee brought his rifle across his front, pointed to the ground. He had maneuvered so that he would enter the clearing right across from them, with their fire in-between. Lee was going to surprise them and didn't want to get shot immediately when he stepped out.

"We take off and don't look back, try and find someplace safe, maybe one of the other colonies."

Lee rolled his eyes at the statement as he stepped into the clearing. That was the problem with flyboys when they were on land, their brains turn to mush. He had been standing in the clearing for a moment longer than it should have taken for them to realize someone else was there. Course with them looking deeply into each other's eyes, he could tell they were in the moment. Seeing the woman slip her hand to the man's cheek in a tender gesture that Lee knew was prelude to a kiss, Lee decided he'd witnessed enough theatrics, and startled them by clearing his throat.

The reaction was immediate, the two across from him were on their feet, weapons drawn, and ready to fight. Lee held his hands away from his weapon, keeping his palms open and to his sides to make sure they knew he had nothing hidden. The woman, recognizing he was a human, lowered her weapon, but kept it at the ready, while the man was a little bit more wary. His expression held some species of suspicion that Lee knew was usually reserved for the enemy, which made no sense. While he was running through the possibilities, the man still pointing the gun at him spoke.

"You mind introducing yourself?"

Internally groaning, Lee wondered how many times he would have to explain who he was, how he got there, and where they were going before someone mercifully put a bullet in his head. Cause that's exactly how Lee knew he was going to die, protecting a bunch of idiots.

"Major Lee Adama."

The man didn't back down a moment, though the name made their eyes shift, like so many others before them when they heard the surname Adama, but didn't seem like he was thinking of pointing the gun anywhere else.

"Well Major Lee Adama, mind telling us how you got out here."

Lee understood caution, but this smelled like something else, this man was treating him like a possible enemy, which didn't really make sense, since the enemy looked like seven foot silver robots. But taking a page out of Achilla's book titled 'diplomacy', Lee managed to keep his confusion and aggravation to himself.

"Was heading back to my base camp when I spotted you two having a moment."

That caught the woman's attention, who was now looking at him with an interest that spoke of something other than hope. It only added to the oddness of the situation. He was missing something that the two in front of him were in on.

"Base camp, where?"

Finally allowing his irritation to show Lee dropped his hands to his sides. He ignored her question and gestured to the muzzle that was currently aimed at his chest.

"Mind taking that gun off me? Don't really care for the idea of getting shot."

The big man, who probably outweighed him by fifty pounds due to height, didn't move an inch, simply spitting back a retort.

"Yeah well, we've met a few strange people the last couple of days."

Lee was getting fed up with the confrontation when it was undercut by the black haired woman touching the hand holding the gun, gently and silently asking that they should at least hear Lee out. The tall man studied her face for a moment before dropping his stance. His expression was guarded, but relieved, making Lee believe he wasn't the type to be naturally suspicious. Lee sat first, keeping the fire between them. Waiting till they were seated before he began.

"Well, I've told you who I am, how about you returning the favor."

He saw the man's jaw work for a moment. The high stress situation making this difficult for all of them.

"I'm Lieutenant Karl Agathon. This is Lieutenant Sharon Valerii, formerly of the Galactica."


	11. S1:Into the maw

They broke into a clearing in the trees, on the crest of a hill looking down at the cabin. The trees, though were sparse, were close enough together to prevent any obvious aerial spotting; they also blocked most of the sun from reaching the ground. Like most pine tree forests, the ground was barren, dirt, pine needles, and vines the only things growing at this elevation. Clouds obscured the sun, turning everything grey, and coupled with the shadows of the trees, the cabin that covered the bunker's entrance looked very unwelcoming.

If Lee wasn't so focused, he might have been depressed.

He had spent most of the time it had taken to return to the bunker answering infuriating questions. It was probably one of the things that always itched in the worst way, questions about his family was high on the list. It had been two hours before Agathon mustered up the spunk to ask if Lee was related to William Adama. He had to tramp down the immediate hatred that began to flood him. It was none of their frakkin business and any opinions they formed about it only served to enrage him further.

The two behind him thankfully didn't pick up on his mood, and Lee made sure it stayed that way.

He had sat at the fire for an hour, regaled by the pair's fight for survival. Agathon running from the Cylons, his rescue by Valerii from a mysterious woman, their discovery of a empty stocked bunker, their evasion of the Cylons, Valerii's capture and rescue by Agathon, and finally their decision to return to Delphi to try and fly their way off the planet.

At the time Lee had barely suppressed the urge to laugh at their antics. Instead he just nodded and retained the guise of an attentive listener. In truth he had been watching their faces as they spoke, and the ticks and twitches told him more than the entirety of their story. He had managed in the end, with very little debate, to convince them to return with him to the safety of the bunker. By the time they had started their hike back his digital watch read o-hundred hours.

The trek back had been uneventful. His mental state became a fine razor, taking in every observation he could glean from his two new guests. Their time on a ship destined for decommissioning left their military propriety lax. The only thing that kept them from being insubordinate was the added 'sir' on the end of each sentence. The lack of a tight formation, and the presence of conversation and questions made him think they had gone soft. They were obviously used to questioning orders, cutting corners, trading tasks, and generally getting their way.

To supply his cool exterior, Lee busied himself with the long list of tasks that awaited him when he got back. They would have to train the C-bucks so they could start rescue operations as soon as possible. It would take at least a week to well them good enough to act as backup in the field.

But it would have to wait till they found someone with comparable engineering and medical experience before they could risk Nestor or Callisto coming along. They needed to figure out a good forward base, medical shifts. The list went on and on. There would be no shortage of tasks, but the most important would be the whopper of the lie he was going have to tell the whole lot of them.

The moment Lee exposed the fact there was no hope, was the moment the civvies started lovingly smothering their children, blessedly shooting each other in the head, to spare them the pain of life without the possibility of life having a happy ending.

Course that put to question the value of either ending. A bullet from a silver monster, or the one you love. Or the one you frak. But Lee was not the suicidal type, a robot's bullet would have to do; and he was going to have to make up one big lie just to keep the idiots going.

The problem with that plan was the fact there was no lie in his arsenal believable enough to last past a few months. A resistance movement would create more problems than solutions. Reasons and explanations would immediately fall apart if anyone other than his team went out into the field.

At the same time he wasn't about to spend the rest of his life sitting in that pit while he could be out there doing something, saving lives. The civvies were the priority, but they weren't going to tell him what to do. Lee knew if he spent too much time in that hole he was going to either take a one way trip into the mountains, or open fire until one of his team puts a bullet to him.

It was another form of suicide, and he still wasn't the type.

Another issue was the couple following him. They had stopped to rest twice on the journey back, the last one to contact the bunker so that his team could prep for their arrival. He could tell the two were fit, but their muscles were still suffering from a stay on a ship with nothing to do and nowhere to go. It didn't help that Valerii had started vomiting, and that Agathon was distracted with concern. Normally Lee would call them back to attention, but the cabin was in sight, and anyone stationed for lookout would be covering them.

Ignoring the hushed conversation behind him Lee activated the radio attached to his vest.

"Anyone home?"

He managed to signal the two flyboys behind him to slow their pace. It was a good idea not to come unannounced, no matter unintentional, on a place he knew was being guarded. Nestor's voice crackled from the headphone nestled in Lee's ear.

"That you sir?"

He could almost feel Nestor's rifle site training on him. He maintained his calm demeanor for the benefit of the two following. Finally remembering their training, they picked up on his caution and fell into flanking positions. They kept their guns holstered, probably because Lee hadn't brought his rifle forward.

"In the flesh. Radio the captain and let her know I'm coming down with two flyboys who both need a medical run down."

There was a moment of unnamed tension before they heard the response.

"Will do sir."

Lee didn't glance back, but could feel Agathon and Valerii relax slightly. So close to their journey's end, with a fresh bed and some meds waiting for them, made life a whole lot brighter. The next few steps were silent, the thick air enveloping them, pressing in at their sides, the sounds of the forest running through his body. Lee felt the chirp of the bird in his hand as he closed it around the handle of the door. Opening the wooden door inward he immediately noticed Nestor greetining at him with a friendly smile. Without pausing, Lee took long strides into the room. The flyboys followed, almost as if they attached by leashes, walking right past Callisto who was leaning against the wall with her weapon drawn.

Without warning the medic took aim and fired. The first shot hit Valerii, making her stagger to her knees. The sudden action making Agathon turn and catch the second shot in the chest, dropping him instantly with a loud thud. Valerii was grasping at her back, trying to touch the impact wound. She managed to stand, using the table in the middle of the room as a crutch and swivled her head blindly around the room . Lee was looking surprised at the fact she was still moving. A second shot from Callisto brought the woman to the floor.

The medic holstered the tranq gun and there was a moment before the three went to work moving the unconscious bodies to the lift in the fireplace. Finding a good grip underneath Agathon's shoulders, Lee noticed idly that the door was still open, letting in the weak morning light. A depressing day indeed. Nestor was dragging Valerii when he aired the question Lee was currently too involved with carrying a frakkin heavy ass man to ask.

"How the hell was she able to remain conscious? Thought you said those darts would take them out instantly."

Callisto grimaced, showing Lee that though she loved the engineer; he was dangerously close to questioning her skills as a medic. It was as the equivalent of giving Lee a nickname; and it didn't help that she was currently gripping the underside of the tall man's knees while helping Lee balance the man to the lift.

"It should have. There's enough anesthesia in the darts to drop two people, so she should have gone down immediately. Maybe she's on stims, but even then it would have slowed the anesthesia down only for a few seconds. "

Agathon barely fit on the lift even after they curled him on his side in the fetal position. Making sure he was clear, Lee activated the lift, and watched the man descend where he would be delivered into the waiting arms of his Captain and Lieutenant. Looking at Callisto across from him, Lee could tell she was puzzling over what the hell had just happened, going over the amount of drugs used, their ratio and what could have kept the compound from rendering the newcomer unconscious. The lack of answers causing the frustration to show on her face. When the lift came back up Lee and the medic situated Valerii, as Callisto stepped on for the next trip down. He managed to catch her attention before he hit the button to descend the lift.

"Get whatever samples you need after we get them down to the brig, figure out what she's on before we start working on her."

The soldier nodded, and resumed her mental calculations, the frustration obviously building. When she was out of sight, Lee kept his thumb on the red button and turned back to Nestor who had closed the door and reoriented the chair Agathon had knocked over on his way down to the floor. When the engineer's attention came back to the Major, he surprised Lee withhis next words.

"Welcome back sir."

Looking at the man directly, Lee saw a young man, youngest of them all, but a strength in the goodness the kid saw in people. He wasn't imposing, but the boy had a head on his shoulders that was dangerous for those who underestimated him. Lee liked the man, even if his laugh was annoying as hell. Lee was genuinely glad to see him.

"Good to be back."

Nestor smiled and turned back to resume his post by the window. Moving his thumb from the red button to the green, Lee brought the lift back up to the cabin, and quickly assessed of the man as he sat in a chair positioned by the window, Nestor had the scoped automatic to the window sill, resting it on a two legged stand. If Lee had to guess, Nestor was in the middle of his lookout shift. When the lift arrived Lee resumed his position, and before he hit the red to begin his descent, he pulled out a nicety that he thought engineer would appreciate.

"I'll send one of the Bucks up some water and food."

The astonished look on Nestor's face had Lee chuckling on the way down. It was strange to find humor when they had just taken prisoners. In retrospect it had been the conversation around the campfire that tipped him off. Their story wasn't entirely unbelievable, just highly unlikely. Especially compared with the events he'd witnessed at delphi. If Agathon had been captured, he would be burning on one of the pyres along with the rest of males his age, instead of waiting for a strange woman to kill him. And if Valerii had been captured, she would have been shoved into one of the facilities none of the women seemed to come out of, rather than being dragged around in a burlap sack. The inconsistencies mounted, but what sealed the deal was the unlikely coincidences in what their faces told him.

When doing field work in the Colonial Security Bureau, Lee and his team received regular training on the subject of Micro Expressions, the universal ticks a face made when exhibiting certain emotions. Achilla was the best in their team, but Lee was almost as good, and he learned much from the faces in the light of the fire the previous night. Agathon was bone tired, stressed and believed every word he said, his face an open book, likely due to his relaxed tour of service on the Galactica. But Valerri fluctuated. She was anxious, tired, stressed, and lying through her teeth. Whoever she worked for, it wasn't the colonies, and whoever trained her had done a piss poor job. So when they had entered signal range, Lee had radioed the bunker while on a 'bathroom' break and told his team to prep to take POW's. But whatever the two were involved in, Valerii had something to hide and Agathon was innocent, or just better trained, Lee was going to find out, by any

means necessary.

The lift came to rest with the blast door left slightly open, to prevent accidental sealing of the hatch. Passing through the entrance, and making his way down the corridors, Lee couldn't help but notice how quiet everything was. The bunker was built to house over a hundred people, and with only forty-three running around the hallways, the place seemed empty. Thinking back to the faces he'd seen through his binoculars; at the work camp, in the crowds being herded into the hospitals; Lee knew his mission. The twisting feeling that had started building when he'd first arrived was beginning to distress, demanding birth. Ignoring it he continued down the corridor. Soon enough Lee was greeted by a smiling Dion walking toward him.

"Heard you were still alive sir."

Dion's glib remarks always irritated Lee a little, but to his surprise, all he felt was a warmth in his chest. Felt that was like coming home.

"Made it back alright, Lieutenant?"

The man in front of him still wasn't used to the new affection that Lee displayed, his face twitching slightly while his brain caught up to the new situation that contradicted the expected response to humor. Thankfully Dion didn't question, just went along with it.

"Yeah, though the civvie Everett was a pain in the ass the whole way."

Lee knew that there were other more pressing matters, he had a laundry list of tasks to complete, things that were more important than standing in the middle of the hallway shooting the shit with his Lieutenant. But his emotions had been clawing at him since he had entered the bunker, trying to tear their way out from the inside. Bullshitting with Dion took the edge off, Lee didn't understand it, but it worked. Trying his hand at the humor he'd seen from Dion, Lee continued the conversation.

"Couldn't have just accidently lost him?"

Dion's response was immediate, making Lee understand that this was banter.

"Nah, his ghost probably would have popped up later and cut into my beauty sleep."

The smile on the Lieutenant's face was worth the stab at humor. Slightly more at ease with what was going on behind his eyes, Lee motioned for Dion to follow and continued his walk.

"How long before we're ready to interview the POW's?"

Dion's face kept it's light from the humor that seemed to permeate the man, but his demeanor went straight to business. 'Interviewing' as the bureau had long since replaced 'interrogating' was a serious matter, and would have to be played right if it was going to be effective. This wasn't their first rodeo, and there was a proper way of going about prepping and interviewing someone. If everyone did their job, it wouldn't take long for them to get the information they needed.

"Got the male rigged and ready in the brig, another hour before Callisto's cocktail wears off. Doc's right now getting her samples from the female before we set her up for the interview. Said she should have the results before they wake up."

The time table worked well. Lee needed both of them in the room when he began to press them. The best way to press a POW was to place something they cared about in jeopardy. With the way Agathon and Valerii had looked at each other, Lee had clear leverage. Hopefully, with Callisto's results he wouldn't be walking into any surprises.

"Good. Make sure you use the vertical hogtie when you rig the female."

Dion just nodded, understanding Lee's intent. It was a rig that kept the person continually off balance, and placed the weight on the joints, never allowing the person to gain purchase or leverage to break the bonds. It usually involved some kind of stand, in the past he had used an chain link bed frame, or prison bars. The strongest man in the colonies couldn't get out of that rig. It would also make Valerii the main subject of the interview, since her reaction to the tranqs made her the person of higher interest.

They were about turn the corner and head down the corridor that led to the medical bay when Dion slowed and addressed Lee.

"Giving you the heads up. Captain ain't happy, sir."

Usually his squad sent him into the maw with a smile and a wave, so the warning came as a surpise. But the situation took precedence over the oddness of this friendly new dynamic in which he found himself.

"How angry?"

Achilla had been unhappy about sending only Lee and Dion out on the recon. So the fact that Lee had sent Dion back and continued alon, instead of scrapping the mission, was going to piss her off. How pissed off would depend on how she took the news.

"Looked like she was going to kill me when I got back sir."

Lee sighed. He knew that Dion was being literal. Every person in his squad was a killer. The cold efficiency with which they preformed their tasks usually made most career soldiers uncomfortable. But with each other they were at ease. Dion had a unique relationship with Achilla; they were friends that barked at each other, and it had been that way since he'd joined the squad three years ago. While they hadn't always gotten along, the threat of death challenged that friendship.

Hard to be friends with someone when you might have to kill them in self defense.

"Alright, I'll talk to her."

Dion nodded and headed toward the brig to ready Valerii for the interview. As he left he threw over his shoulder.

"She told me that she'd meet you at the medical bay."

Lee continued until he was standing in front of the med bay. Taking a breath he opened the hatch and stepped inside.

AN: Thank you to all that have reviewed, it is like cocaine injected directly into my heart, no that I know what that feels like... Anway I have written chapter 12 but my grammar beta is being a lazy butt (she said I could say this) But please be patient, I am plugging away at this story, and I WILL FINISH IT *Shaking fist at the sky*. Also POW means prisoner of war, just in case some of you didn't know.


	12. S1:Home

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

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There had been changes made to the long room. More beds were out and prepped for use. Sue shaun asleep in one of them, looking about ten times better. Oddly the man he recognized as Everett was in the bed opposite her, strapped down and asleep. Callisto sat in the far corner at a desk covered in various medical equipment, moving vials and slides around with practiced ease, ignoring everything outside her work.

Achilla stood behind her, watching intently with arms crossed.

Her dark red hair was wrapped up into a bun, she had stripped down to her green undershirt, the muscles in her back rippling under her blue black skin. She was strong, powerful, and Lee could tell from her body language she was pissed as hell. He was happy to see her.

She must have felt his gaze because she turned, in a very deliberate manner to face him, while Lee strode into the room toward the pair. Achilla remained beside the desk, and Lee knew that he would have to keep cool, any sign of aggression or weakness and there would be a fight. It was a tight, controlled dance between them, a misstep would be bad. Very bad.

He stopped at the foot of a med bed ten feet away from them and began stripping his gear off. It was standard procedure to get checked out after any mission or recon. The fire fight three days ago had left a few gashes, including the ear that hadn't stopped throbbing, and he wanted to make sure got looked at and patched up. Anyone with basic medical training could do it, but Lee was just hoping in vain it would be Callisto instead of Achilla. He stripped away his gear as slowly as possible. Lee knew that Achilla knew he was stalling, but hadn't called him on it yet, so he figured he still had a chance.

He removed his fingerless leather gloves and his hard fiber elbow and kneepads before Achilla crossed the distance between them. Lee didn't look at her, pretending to struggle with his combat vest, purposefully fumbling with his radio mic and earphone.

After setting down the vest on the bed in front of him, Lee began to feel hole that her stare was burning into the side of his head. He turned to face her while unbuttoning his long sleeve camo shirt, and was met with the coldest gaze he'd ever seen her give him. Achilla's stare cut right through the pretense.

Steeling himself, Lee tried to think of something to say without giving her the opportunity to verbally eviscerate him.

"What's the status on Everett?"

Achilla didn't even twitch.

"Well sir, when he arrived he worked himself into a mental breakdown. He had to be sedated."

He'd sent her an unpredictable problem to deal with on her own while he was out risking his life. Lee had made the decision knowing she wouldn't appreciate it. Head bent to watch his hands undo the last button on his shirt, Lee glanced at Callisto to see if her analysis was complete. It wasn't.

"Callisto check him out?"

Carefully peeling off the camo shirt, Lee knew that if he paused too long, he'd slip up and she'd start in on him with the clear opening. Lee was playing with fire, and his situation was becoming more precarious by the moment. He started unnecessarily folding his shirt while Achilla stood, arms still crossed.

"Yes sir, nothing wrong with him physically."

The med bay was silent aside from Callisto working at her station, and the quiet breathing of two sleeping patients. So silent that the sound of his shirt landing on the rest of the equipment sounded like the last nail in the coffin. Lee knew the dance was over, and abandoning pretense he looked at the medic's back wistfully. She didn't turn to look at him which told him that she didn't care, or that she was leaving him to his fate. Either way Lee knew he was screwed.

Turning to Achilla, Lee saw that her expression hadn't changed, except for a momentary quirking of her eyebrow in a silent question. 'Do you admit defeat?'

"Okay."

Lee hopped butt first onto the med bed, back facing his equipment, mentally preparing himself for what was to come. He knew from experience that his ordeal would be that much worse due to his stalling and avoidance. It was just Achilla's way. With that in mind Lee plunged into the debriefing to assess the damage. Achilla wheeled over a cart with the standard checkup equipment that must have been prepared for his arrival. They looked normal, but Lee knew that in her hands, they were about to become to most effective torture devices any person could experience.

"What's the status of the bunker?"

Achilla didn't answer immediately, slipping latex gloves on with a snap before she turned to face him.

"Anders and I were able to get things rolling pretty quick. Worked out shifts for maintenance, med duty, and combat training for the C-bucks, letting the families take care of their own."

As she spoke, Achilla non-to-gently checked his eyes, ears, throat, and nose. She grasped his head firmly, the latex catching his hairs, pulling his scalp in small twinges of pain. Lee bore it all in silence, letting her manhandle him, knowing it would be the mildest of his hurdles.

"Anders was able to put most of the team where he figured they would best be suited. So far it's been alright, though Callisto doesn't like teaching, she might kill someone if they mess up."

The pain grew worse when she began to search for wounds. The various bruises and gashes he had earned on his arms and chest got a good prodding as she assessed the severity of each.

"The man named Ten-point started a triad championship yesterday, turnout's been good, keeps everyone in high spirits."

It was when she brandished the disinfectant that Lee knew he had to focus. He purposefully ignored the damp cotton ball, loaded with enough hydrogen peroxide to sterilize the bottom of a Picon biker bar, making it's way toward the scrapes on his shoulder. Achilla never missed a beat or changed her tone.

"Lieutenant Dion got in around twenty-three hundred hours last night. After being debriefed he was put in charge of getting the refugees settled."

Half the pain was the peroxide killing the sludge that the sweat of the last two days had seeped into the wound. The other half was the pressure and the grinding motion she was using to clean out the laceration. He'd had worse treatment. One particular case was a medic with shaky hands pulling a bullet from Lee's arm, with no painkillers. They had managed to remove it after the third try. That hurt. This was a conversation that would be expressed only through pain.

"Apparently they were a part of the local militia, third contingent of the continental guard. Three privates, one private first class, two corporals, and one sergeant Everett Dasher Breed."

She moved on to the slice on his face after patching up his torso. Lee focused on the sound of Achilla's voice as she spoke, trying to ignore the firm rub of cotton against the torn membrane of skin, veins and muscle on his cheek, the sharp prickling of pain as the peroxide bubbled and burned.

Lee had managed more than once to evade her 'checkups'. But most of the time he'd have to succumb to her healing touch, not saying a word, understanding that this was her way of yelling at him without being insubordinate. Lee was smart enough to avoid the other option.

The expression on her face was still, almost completely devoid of any emotion, reflecting only Achilla's concentration, except for her eyes. Her eyes told him that there was something more. Something he wasn't used to seeing on her face. Thinking that this was a different kind of session than the usual 'sit-and-take-it' he spoke.

"There was a woman, Ash, pretty strong, could be useful?"

He almost dreaded her reaction. He'd made the mistake once of speaking during a check up and she'd made sure that the next time they went out drinking he didn't remember what had happened. Several incriminating photos had turned up on the base billboard the next day. There wasn't any proof that it was Achilla, but he knew without a doubt it was her.

It only served to affirm the notion that something was wrong when instead of staring his soul into oblivion, she merely answered him in the same tone.

"Corporal Ash Vladek. She's still shaky, but she looks like the kind of person we'll need."

After ruminating for a moment it suddenly struck him, and Lee nearly kicked himself. In the past her med-bay torture was to keep him from doing it the next time, but she had never been afraid of life without him. It was something you understood in the CSB. Life went on, and sometimes your friends died. Lee had learned that lesson in spades.

But now the dynamic had changed. Life didn't go on, because life as they knew it was over. He had been dreading the thought of spending the rest of his life taking care of a bunch of civvies, but he knew at the very least he'd have Achilla to help him through. But while he was gone, she didn't have that small comfort, and he had a feeling that Achilla had come to understand that.

She was pissed and scared, and probably pissed that she was scared.

They had been together through some of the darkest points in their lives, and though it hadn't happened often, he knew how to deal with this problem. One of the hardest things he'd ever had to do. But there wasn't any way around it.

Achilla was still explaining.

"Sue-shaun is stable, ran a fever two days ago, but Callisto was able to knock it out with some high yield antibiotics. We were also able to arrange a blood drive scheduled for fourteen hundred..."

Achilla was in the process of taping Lee's ear when he very smoothly touched her arm with only a few fingers. In the scope of things it wasn't much, but between them it spoke volumes. Through his fingers he felt her demeanor slowly shift, and soon her gaze met his. Without any pride or temerity, Lee spoke.

"I'm sorry."

Achilla froze immediately. He could almost feel the invasion of his soul as she assessed whether or not he was being honest. Whatever she decided, Lee knew that he had a fifty-fifty chance that she was going to punch him in the face. Even Achilla had limits to the protocol she was willing to follow.

Achilla didn't punch him. Instead her face softened ever so slightly, looked back to what she was doing and finished patching him up. Her softened expression didn't stop her from scrubbing the divot in the rim of his ear a little harder than needed. When she was done, she calmly set down the tools and threw away the used supplies in a biohazard bag hanging from the cart. Somewhat settled the captain turned back to him, signaling that the reprimand was finished.

"What's going on out there sir?"

Her voice was softer, but held more depth than the front she shored up with her monotone report on the state of the bunker. Somehow Lee knew this would be the harder part of the debriefing.

"Remember Tauron?"

Achilla became so still that the flutter of flesh over her heart was the only indication she was still alive. The mission on Tauron was a very bad memory. It was back when they were both still a part of the Myrmidon squad under Major Ironsides. A remote part of the southern continent, the Scylla peninsula, had been cut off due to the flooding of the river Acheron.

The major port city Parga and fifty smaller towns had been isolated for a month while the planet's government scrambled to implement some kind of relief effort. Parga was one of the poorest parts of the planet, and had been a breeding ground for some of the largest gangs in the whole of the colonies. It was a bad place to be without government authority.

When the flood hit, it took two days for the gangs to start a slaughtering each other. They went through the boroughs, house to house, killing men, women and children that held loyalties to the opposing gangs. The Myrmidons had been dispatched in the first wave when news of the fighting reached the Colonial government.

It had been three days of intense firefights, and in between, a showcase of the worst horrors of humanity.

Lee still remembered running down the street with his squad, spotting a dead prepubescent girl hanging from a lamp post, stripped naked except for one shoe with a pink bow.

From the look on Achilla's face, she remembered too. She didn't respond, so Lee continued.

"That, only worse. They're rounding up the survivors, executing the males, and shipping the females off to facilities around the city."

She stood with him as he turned to retrieve his equipment. When he turned back to her, Achilla was a few feet away, arms once again crossed.

"They've got a work force burning the bodies, maybe three hundred men and women. Figure we might stand a chance at busting them out."

She merely nodded. Lee understood that the new knowledge of their predicament would bring back bad memories for her, for all of them, but it would also make her tenacious as ever to strike back and maybe even save a few lives.

"And the two in the brig?"

This was another issue that would be unpleasant. Achilla didn't believe in the necessity of the interviews. She wouldn't stop them, but she would find any way she could to avoid them. It didn't worry Lee much, because when the time came, she did her job.

"Picked them up on the way back. Their stories didn't make sense what with what's going on in the city."

"Think they're hiding something?"

Her stare was penetrating, and Lee could tell that she was merely making sure this was what they required. He got the feeling that it was less to spare the prisoners pain and more to save whatever was left of what she considered his soul. It's why he loved her.

"The male, maybe. The female, definitely."

She had her answer and sighed. Normally he would be alarmed at this expression of vulnerability, but he understood, it had been a bad couple of weeks. Glancing down he considered putting on his camo shirt, the hallways were a little chilly for only a form fitting undershirt. On the other hand his shirt had two weeks worth of sweat and grime caked into it. Made him wonder if it could be cleaned or if he would have to burn it.

Smell versus cold. It was a strange comparison to consider. But it had been that kind of day.

Looking back to Achilla, Lee managed a good look into her deep brown eyes. She was happy to see him. For a moment, a rare occurrence, his defenses slipped. Despite everything, everything he'd done, everything that had happened, he still had his friend. As much as he wanted to bemoan the bunker and the bunch of squabbling civvies, Lee was home with friends. It touched a place in him that hadn't been at peace for a very long time. Her voice brought him back to the present with a startling snap.

"Callisto should be done with her tests by now."

The situation presented itself like an obnoxious prom date. He'd hear what Callisto had to say, grab some food and water, an update from Anders and maybe even get his fatigues washed. By then the two in the brig would be ready for questioning.

On second thought, Lee would hold off on washing the fatigues.

No point if he was just going to get more blood on them.

----

AN: I will finish this story, to all those wonderful readers who reviewed, I WILL FINISH THIS STORY! IF IT KILLS ME, I WILL FINISH THIS F*$&ING STORY!!!!!


	13. S1:Interview

_I wish you were dead._

_Thrummmm_

After the Myrmidons got massacred, the brass sent Lee to the base shrink on Picon, to make sure he could survive the stress of being in the CIS black ops. In the middle of the standard week assessment the psychologist, a matronly woman in formal dress, with a face and build that told him she had once been in the military, started talking about his anger issues. It had come up when she started drilling about his childhood.

He hadn't much respect for shrinks since he knew that most of them just stuffed soldiers with pills until they faded into the background, so when the uppity harpy started in about his mother, Lee got defensive and angry. When she didn't let up, Lee lost it, flipping the new age coffee table, ending the session. At the time Lee thought his career was finished. Instead he showed up to the next session and the woman was still there.

In patronizing tones which irritated him to no end, she explained in metaphor that his anger was like a spider, and how an aggressive reaction was triggered in much the same way as a spider hunts. The arachnid lived not on the web, buthin a hidden place connected to a single baseline leading to the center of the web. When prey became entangled in the web, the struggling sent a vibration through the base line to the spider, drawing it out for the kill.

As much as Lee was loathe to admit it, the metaphor Still resounded. He felt his base line thrumming like a guitar string, calling up the anger buried fourteen yeas deep. The vibration was in his arms, telling his fingers to curl, punch, stab, rend, tear. Violence, they wanted violence desperately.

With every measured stride the barely contained need echoed throughout his frame. Every time his boot met the concrete floor, it whispered into his ears.

_The flashing of the sun through the trees as he spun to the ground._

_Thrummm_

Lee walked no faster than usual; his movements were calculated and precise. His breath was even as he threaded his way with deceptive calm through the scattered groups of civvies. He 'felt' the tightly controlled tension coiled in hi limbs, his rage like a black tar bubbling in his veins. His focus narrowed to his heartbeat, pulsing in time with his footsteps as his surroundings faded to a haze of white noise.

A couple of chatting C-bucks tensed as he passed, the first stumbled on the word exiting her mouth, the second shuddering at an unknown chill crawling up his spine. The civvies were less aware but the primitive bits of their brains linked to survival recognized the approaching danger.

_I wish you were dead._

_Thrummm_

Lee knew it was all psychological, a mental response to a traumatic event, the military head shrink told him once in a condescending tone. Thinking about it almost made him laugh. Lee had seen things that left most soldiers giving their service pistols a blow job.

Despite his tunnel vision, Lee was aware that the news of the two prisoners had spread throughout the base. As he passed the wide entrance to the mess hall, he noticed in his peripheral vision several people talking to Anders. Lee wondered absently if Anders was feeding into the rumors, or filtering them.

He would deal with that another time, at that moment, he had other concerns. The sun swallowing anger running through his body made this the worst state to conduct an 'interview', but there wasn't really a choice.

He made the turns through the corridors mainly by memory, coming to a junction more heavily reinforced than the others. Thick doors sealed off the area, marking the place as the official brig. Apparently even politicians saw the need for soldiers beyond defense. Lee input the security code on the old style pad near the door, and had to use a bit more force to pull open the door than he would have in a newer facility.

_The sound of shattering glass against the ceramic tile patio._

_Thrummm_

Agitated, frustrated, Lee stepped into the brig..

Lee had conducted several interrogations in his career. The first one was a mess, having done it on the run from Saggitaron seperatists with no real training. He had barely managed to get the information he needed before accidently pushing the prisoner past the mortality point. Apparently it was best to keep them alive, if only to confirm what they their information.

After his CIS training he found his intelligence and detachment let themselves well to the practice. After each progressive interview, he became more and more detached from the act itself. He knew some men enjoyed the sense of power and the stench of fear, but Lee maintained it was a tool, to be used only when necessary.

Achilla had a problem with the fact that Lee was so removed during the interviews. But it was better to remain emotionless, detached from the act itself. It allowed him to be aware of when to pull back, and not take the subject past the mortality point. Unfortunately, he was anything but emotionless at that moment, which was why he needed Callisto andAchilla in the room with him. Under normal circumstances, he would work alone, with Callisto on standby. Less distraction, also less psychological trauma to deal with on their end. Not many shared Lee's ability to distance himself from the task at hand. The gang leader onTauron had been a screamer, shrieking like a banshee whenever Lee set one of his digits on fire.

The brig was straight forward. A large square room divided by walls made of bars. Three individual cells with lidless toilets and bare bunk beds to serve as long term housing. A separate area against the corner of the room was the drunk tank, a regular holding cell made for short term incarcerations. Two of the walls of the drunk tank were concrete while the other two formed a corner, made out of bars. It was empty aside from benches lining the concrete walls.

The room was on the low list of electricity priorities, only having five imbedded lights, one for each cell, the drunk tank, and the expanse of floor between the tank and the door. The door was reinforced, with a key lock that Callisto currently had on her person.

Interviewing a prisoner was most effective when the subject was off balance. The goal was to create a situation as unsettling as possible. They had managed to turn off all the lights except the one in the drunk tank which cast the light through the bars across the room in disturbing shadows. The air ducts were constantly recycling air, removing the moisture to prevent molding, making the room cold. He could see their skin puckering in goose-bumps. The necessary equipment lay on a sanitary cloth on the cart, a mix of medical and maintenance tools,proven, mostly by him, to be effective in retreiving information.

Callisto had a small monitoring station outside the tank, with Nestor's help they set up a few screens to view the vitals of their subjects. It was especially important considering the condition of one of their guests.

_I wish you were dead_

_The flashing of the sun through the trees as he spun to the ground._

_Thrummm_

Achilla was standing in the cell when he entered, she then nodded to Callisto who locked the drunk tank door behind him using the only key they had for the brig.

Agathon was tied, his elbows, wrists, waist, knees and feet were secured to different parts of the chair's frame. They had gagged him, the cloth secured between his teeth, biting into his cheeks. It was not comfortable, Lee knew from experience. But it was nothing compared to the wayValerii was restrained.

They had used the bars forming the far wall to suspend her, her back against the cold iron with her arms and legs put between the bars and secured to the frame. They called it a vertical hogtie. He had learned it from a girlfriend who was a knot expert due to her extra curricular activities. It placed the weight evenly along the body, while at the same time causing incredible discomfort, and denying the prisoner any leverage. Over a long period of time the ropes and bars would cut into the shins and biceps, which is why for this prisoner they placed cloth pads on the cross bars where her limbs rested. It wouldn't stop bruising in the long term, but it would prevent any lacerations from developing. She was also gagged. He had something to say and didn't want to be interrupted.

Taking a moment to make sure everything was in place. Lee's eyes caught the pair of pliers laid out with the rest of the tools. He was instantly back in theSaggitaron jungle, pulling out a mans fingernails, having to yank harder than he had originally thought.

Moving to stand next to Valerii he looked over her nude form coldly calculation. He noted the areas that he would focus on during different phases of the interview. A successful interview confirmed information. The questions he would ask after pushing in needles coated in a mild acid in phase one were the same questions he would ask after inserting an electric probe into a nerve cluster in phase six. Course that was complicated slightly byValerii's condition.

Turning to lock eyes with Achilla, Lee nodded before bending to pick up a bucket filled to the brim with ice water. His arms twitched and he had to stop his brain from telling them to slam the metal into the captives head. He had done something similar in the jungle when his knife had snapped and he had needed a silent way to take out a guard. The odd way a person looks when their skull has been collapsed stayed with him.

He could feel the scars on his arms shift as he flexed and dumped the ice water over naked skin, pulling a hoarse shriek from the blinked deliriously and twisted against her bindings. She rotated her hands trying to get free before realizing that they were tied. Her body writhed, but as her mind caught up, Lee watched her quickly and systematically assess her situation. The drug haze was still working and it took a minute before her eyes settled on his face. From her expression Lee could tell thatValerii understood what a shit storm she was in at the moment. He saw the change from confusion to determination as the realization washed over her that everything she did and said was under scrutiny. They always did that before he started, but even the strong ones broke. The man onAreolon lasted to phase seven, but broke down weeping after the third electrical shock to his testicles.

The sound of a splash and a hoarse yell indicated Agathon was awake and aware. Even as distracted as he was Lee noticed Valerii's eyes dart weakly over his shoulder, noting her concern. Her eyes immediately returned to Lee's, filled with the understanding she had just given something away.

_The sound of shattering glass against the ceramic tile patio._

_Thrummm_

He ignored the indignant sounds coming from the naked man tied to the chair behind him. Achilla silently moved back to stand next to the cart with the tools. The woman on asteroid 76B cracked after ten hours, spilling everything during the third drill into her kneecap.

"I've got myself a predicament."

Lee turned to approach the medical cart between the two captives. Both were positioned to have a clear view of the instruments that would soon be intimately involved with their various parts. Looking down over the tools, voice full of confidence, Lee continued.

"You see, neither of your stories match what's going on out there."

Agathon had finally stopped struggling and making unintelligible noises, and was now sitting in tone silence. A captive audience in the literal sense.

"Right now the survivors are being rounded up, male's separated from the females. The men are executed immediately and burned in giant bonfires. The women are herded into facilities where they don't come out again."

Still turned toward the cart, Lee picked up long sewing needle and made a show of examining it. The second man on Saggitaron, three years after the first, broke during phase two, after acid coated needles had been pushed underneath his toenails. Staying in the moment, he made sure the light glinted off the steel to attract each of his prisoners gazes.

"No filtering, no interrogation, no waiting."

Lee replaced the needle and picked up a stun baton. Nestor had found a bundle of them in security storage. Old style, used for non lethal crowd control, and still charged. Turning toValerii, who recognized the device and did her best not to squirm, he began gesturing with the baton, waving it to emphasize his words.

"You both spent time in the custody of the enemy and yet you're both still alive and kicking."

Lee could tell that the casual nature with which he treated the weapon was making the prisoners nervous. He could even sense Achilla tense slightly, probably because he was usually not so talkative. Lee continued, giving no indication that he noticed, turning toagathon and indicating him with the electrified point of the baton.

"You are either a very good liar, or you're telling the truth."

His eyes found Valerii's eyes, her anxiousness at the weapon pointed at her lover evident.

_I wish you were dead_

_Thrummm_

"You, however, are not a good liar, and haven't told me the truth since I met you."

Tiring abruptly of theatrics, Lee put the prod back on the cart and came to stand uncomfortably close to the bound woman. Valerii began to panic as the awareness of her nudity and the unyielding restraints became suddenly very real. He suppressed a smile of grim satisfaction at the barelydiscernable tremble that began in Valerii's limbs.

"Normally in these situations I'd just press you until you gave me answers."

It was clear to them what he meant by 'press'. In his peripheral vision lee watched as Agathon stiffened, twisting violently against the ropes that held him to the chair, and growing his distress through the gag.

"Unfortunately I have a feeling if i ran you through the wringer you'd miscarry."

That stilled both prisoners, Valerii's face a picture of shock, then a struggle that eventually lead to resignation. Lee knew she valued the child and she knew he now had the strongest bargaining chip. He stepped closer, andgooseflesh shuddered across her exposed chest. Lee leaned into her face, their noses nearly touching, the short, hot hitches of her breath mingling with his own in the cold room.

"I'm not in the business of killing children, it's one of the few things that I've been able to avoid in my line of work. So I'm going to give you one chance to tell me the truth."

His tone was low and calm, but the menace was clear. The spider in the back of his mind caressed the web, and of anger crawled through his mind vibrating the air around them.

"Nothing but the truth. Cause you lie once, my good nature ends, and my need for answers takes precedence over your child's life. Don't put me in that position."

Reaching to the clasp behind her ear, Lee unhooked the gag in her mouth, pulling the slightly damp cloth out from between her teeth.

"Do you understand me."

Valerii didn't speak, instead just nodded, meeting his. Lee knew from experience that he had the kind of stare that made the untrained turn into mush, and made the trained nervous and wary.

From the captive's state, she was somewhere in between.

"What are you?"

Her eyes twitched in shock before her lids slid closed in despair. Tears began to trickle down her cheeks, merging with droplets from the water he and dumped on her moments ago.

"I'm a cylon. Series model number eight."

Lee blinked. It was only through rigid training and sheer force of will that he was able to mask his complete surprise. The silence stretched, and in that moment the recent series of events suddenly clicked together in frightening succession.

The medical reads on Valerii had been twice that of a normal person. Twice the adrenaline, antibodies, everything. Lee had thought she was some kind test tube soldier, which was possible with thecylons level of technology. But a cylon human hybrid was unexpected. Very unexpected.

She was looking at him in resigned defeat, and he realized that the prisoner behind him had gone completely still. Stepping back a few paces before turning to examine the bound man, he felt the spider ease back, retreating into it's dark hiding place. His renewed focus allowed his anger torecede, but only a little.

"How many models are there?"

Agathon's eyes were glued to the woman over Lee's shoulder. The disbelief etched in his face betrayed a desperate need for her to be lying, for it not to be true.

"Twelve."

He could see the hope on Agathon's face slowly die, leaving only desolation. Lee controlled a stab of wild annoyance at the fact the prisoner was broken and he hadn't even gotten to use the pliers.

"What was your assignment?"

"Procreation program."

The spider leapt forward, and suddenly Lee had murder on his mind

His thoughts sharpened instantly, his body adjusting, so quickly that the sudden tension became acutely painful. His gaze unintentionally met Achilla's, and her own eyes reflected his shock. Turning back to face the cylon, his mind zeroed in, reading and cataloguing every twitch and flinch.

"What's the importance of that assignment?"

His voice was cold and hard. Completely belied the mad racing of his pulse. His fists clenched, aching for violence. It was only his need for answers that kept them from what they wanted.

Valerii raised her head to look at him, her expression heavily weighted with the strain of defeat, as she bleakly surrendered the information to him and subsequently to her lover.

"Cylons can't reproduce. All our attempts to procreate have failed. I'm a part of the crossbreeding branch of the procreation program."

She struggled briefly, but her determination was crushed. The pressure behind Lee's eyes was building, pounding, igniting.

"My assignment was to make Helo fall in love with me, and to produce a child."

His whole body was vibrating to the beat of his heart. A heart that was telling him to kill, maim, rend and tear.

_The sound of shattering glass against the ceramic tile patio._

_I wish you were dead._

_The sound of her hand meeting his cheek._

_The flashing of the sun through the trees as he spun to the ground._

For a moment he could see the scalpel in his hand, cutting her, causing her pain like so many others. His scars itched for it, begging him to open her up for no other reason than to purge the memories she was invoking. Entangled in a loving battle with rage, Lee barely realized he was still asking questions.

"Why did he need to fall in love with you?"

"Some of us believe that you need love to create a child."

_Zak crying into his hands_

_Ambrosia bottles clinking together as he brings them outside_

_The weight of the bottles in his hand as they are smashed on the back patio._

"What was the next step in the program?"

_Tears sliding down his face_

_Her emergence from the master bedroom_

_Her uneven steps as she tries to run through the house_

"Dispose of him and come in for analysis."

_Her incoherent hate filled words raining down._

_Hot anger running through him._

"Why didn't you?"

_Her sudden calm._

_I wish you were dead._

_Her hand meeting his cheek._

"Because I love him."

Lee surfaced from the memories best forgotten and awakened to an eerie calm. Silence found him. It wrapped its warm arms around him, making him more focused, sharpenning his vision. The cylon imploringly past Lee to the man tied to the chair behind him. Lee looked into her face, and saw truth. This machine, this cylon believed completely that it loved. That it was in love.

_A thumb running across one of the scars on his wrist._

Lucidity returned, and for the first time since Callisto had told him Valerii was pregnant, Lee felt centered and in control.

"Where were you going to run to?"

"I don't know. Anywhere, anywhere safer than here."

He saw her wince and realized the bars had started to bruise her arms and legs. Suddenly incredibly weary, Lee approached her again, commanding her attention as he pulled out the combat knife he kept at his side.

"You're going to give me the names and descriptions of the other eleven cylons. You're going to give me patrol routes, mission statements, strengths, weaknesses, everything."

Lee paused a moment as slight defiance lit her face.

"In return I'll promise you cooperative prisoner of war status. No summary execution, no torture, no experimentation. You will have food, water, and medical aid."

The cylon was speechless for a moment, and was about to say something when she felt Lee lay the knife right above her pelvic bone curved to become her genitalia, the point aimed directly over her uterus that held the life she cared for so much. The terror in her eyes spoke volumes.

"You hold out on me once, lie to me once, one person dies because you deceived me, and I will personally cut open your belly and introduce you to your newborn."

He held her gaze for a long moment, then turned away and motioned for Callisto to open the cell. Achilla, knowing the interrogation was over, walked up beside him. Keeping his voice low enough for only his Captain to hear, Lee gave orders.

"Untie them, and give her some scrubs. Clean him up and bring him to the security control. Get the rest of the squad and meet me there."

He was operating on autopilot, and it showed in his voice. Without waiting for a response, Lee walked out the door after Callisto opened it. Before leaving the room, he turned to the medic, ignoring the concern etched on her features.

"Keep a guard on her at all times, rotate the C-Bucks into the surface watch. This does not go outside the squad."

His mood, which had been sour to begin with and had declined considerably during the interrogation, became resigned at the sight of Anders waiting outside the door. Knowing that he wouldn't be able to avoid the conversation without severe repercussions, Lee merely jerked his head in the direction he was already heading before continuing with a determined stride.

_The flashing of the sun through the trees as he spun to the ground._

_The sudden pain as the shards of broken ambrosia bottles cut into his arms as he landed._

_The sound of her walking away._

_Thrummm..._


	14. S1:Walking away

Lee felt hollowed out. His world was gone, blown to hell, he'd watched innocent people get slaughtered, and in the end found out the mechanism was humanity itself, warped beyond recognition by a machines imitation. To add insult to injury, before he could eat, sleep or drink, all of which he desperately needed, Lee had to argue with a civilian.

He'd confronted Anders in the engineering room, far enough from the inner bunker to keep any prying eyes away from the bomb he was about to drop.

_...wishyouweredead..._

"... haven't you scrapped the damn thing yet?"

_...ambrosiabottlesclinking..._

Lee wasn't actually listening to the man in front of him. He was more focused on getting out of the room than the words coming out of Anders' mouth. His head was too full, too many things had happened and he could feel the telltale signs of another break itching at the edges of his consciousness. The few words that did get through only served to rub the knotted nerves exposed by the events of the last few days. Anders was in front of him barking his head off like a Picon pit bull, going on about how they couldn't trust a Cylon, that the people had a right to know about the danger the Major was putting them in. All of which Lee ignored in favor of surpressing his ever growing anger at the athlete's presumption.

_...frakkingasshole..._

"That thing is a clear danger to these people. If it ever got out..."

_...handmeetinghischeek..._

The athlete's own fear was obvious, fear of events outpacing him and his influence, however much that might be. Lee knew the C-buck thought that if he didn't keep a handle on things, him and his team might opt to leave them twisting. Which almost made him chuckle since he'd seriously considered that option not long ago. Lee couldn't figure out why he continued to try to reason with the man in front of him. He heard himself explain distractedly the inherent danger of that kind of fear and suspicion.

_...angerrunningthroughhim..._

"...right to know. At least with this they could be on the watch for..."

_...tearsslidingdown..._

In retrospect, Lee knew he should have delayed the argument, gotten himself some down time. But something about Anders had told Lee that this wouldn't wait. Machines had crossed over into flesh, illustrating how screwed they all were, making his job ten times harder than it already was. If everyone in the bunker knew, it would be a very short walk to tearing each other apart in fear. Lee knew they couldn't keep it a secret for long. Not in the close quarters of the bunker, not with manpower stretched as thin as it was. That unfortunate fact, combined with the maddening frustration Anders seemed to effortlessly arouse, had Lee's head spinning.

_...wishyouweredead..._

"If you won't tell them, I will."

With that declaration Lee's focus narrowed abruptly. Anders had declared himself a threat, and, as such, his life expectancy shortened to the amount of time it took to walk to the door. Lee formulated the plan on autopilot. Anders would turn his back, walk toward the door, Lee's knife would be out, then inbetween the C-bucks ribs, piercing the lung, preventing the man from crying out, leaving it in, both hands would snap the neck and Lee would never have to deal with him again.

There wasn't any debate. His mission, the purpose to which he was devoting the rest of his short life, was to insure the stability and survival of these hapless civilians for as long as possible. Any threat to that, even that of a frightened and volatile man, was an obstacle to be removed.

Time slowed as the athlete began to turn and walk away. Lee's hand moved to grip the combat knife hanging on his hip, about to unsheath it and bury it into the back of the incredibly irritating man in front of him.

Before he could even take a step, Achilla appeared in front of him as if materializing out of thin air. She startled Lee so badly that his hand halted mid-motion, the texture of the grip only slightly brushing against his fingertips. He saw Anders already across the room talking to Dion through the door. His tunnel vision subsided like a curtain being pulled back, expanding Lee's awareness. With mounting alarm he noticed details of the room snap sharply into focus. Sensory information came flooding in at a pace that left Lee overwhelmed.

_...astheyaresmashed..._

The florescent lights casting cold light into every corner offset by the dozens of illuminated buttons and screens of the control panels. The smooth grey of the concrete walls, the slate color of the equipment and lockers containing small arms. Dion's cheeks flexing in a disarming smile as he led Anders away, employing his usual charms to diffuse the situation. Achilla was staring intently at his face, reading his body language in a moment of stillness.

_...incoherenthatefilledwords..._

Achilla held her hands slightly away from her body, at an angle Lee recognized as readiness to move swifter than the eye could see to stop him. He realized that his own hand was gripping the hilt of his knife, undoubtedly leading Achilla to believe it still was a threat. He released the knife and slowly brought his hands in front of him, turning his palms outward, showing her than he wasn't going to move against her. She immediately began to relax, though he could still see a measure of concern in her eyes. So much was running through his head that he couldn't form the words to assure his second in command that he was alright.

_...herwalkingawaysuddencalm..._

Except Lee wasn't alright. The emotions he'd been holding at the edges were steadily creeping in. His attempts to keep from being overwhelmed were an exercise in desperate futility. The heightened awareness only served to strengthen the advance with every heartbeat, and the thin fabric of self control he'd fought to maintain unravelled like an old carpet.

_...hewasrepeatingthegrade..._

All he could do was slowly back away, away from the situation, away from Achilla, awary from the door that held all those people beyond it with their complications. Lee's retreat was hampered by the monitor console, the backs of his legs hit the utilitarian swivel chair, sending it off to the side, sending him and his lower back into the console. Not hard enough to hurt but enough to alert Lee to his compromised awareness. Slowly he slid down to the floor, hands drawn in against his chest, confined by his bent legs.

_...**you hold onto that one thing**..._

Lee knew he looked pathetic sitting there, he sussed Achilla's mounting unease at his unprecedented actions. Lee tried to get a grip before he completely flew apart. In an effort to relax, he extended his legs along the floor, attempting to release the tension coiled in his muscles.

_..._**_curve of her shoulders feel of her lips_**_..._

Like a man drowning, he held on with a grip that wouldn't loosen even after death. The terror hit bone deep when Lee realized this was it, this was his breaking point. He needed to do something or he wasn't going to come back from this.

"Sir?"

Lee tried to look her in the eye, but his body refused to cooperate and his gaze remained resolutely fixed on the floor. His breath came harsher than normal, scraping at his throat and teeth, the words were coughed up more than spoken.

_...hebringsthemoutside..._

"I need..."

_...theweightofthebottles..._

He remembered what the psychologist had once told him, that when people felt dizzy they reached out and grasp an anchor to stabalize them. Lee remembered thinking at the time that the old bag hadn't reached out to grasp anything in a long time. But in a sudden clarity he understood, and reached.

_...tearsslidingdownhisface..._

"I need you to just be here."

_...herunevensteps..._

Lee forced himself to look at her then. She had never, in the ten years he'd known her, looked so stunned, shocked beyond belief. She didn't move for a moment, and a stab of fear went through him. For the first time in in a very long time, he was afraid, afraid that she would leave, unable to deal with the mountain of burden he carried and walk away.

_...wordsrainingdown..._

"Just stay in here."

_...hotangerrunningthroughhim..._

He tried not to make it sound like begging, but it came out as a plea anyway, a whisper of soft desperation too small to carry far in the nearly empty room. The despair in his tone seemed to snap Achilla out of her immobility. Her expression was one of indecision and she hesitated for a moment before turning to walk toward the door. For a few seconds Lee was certain his fate was sealed, until she stopped, closing the door in front of her, locking it, and returning to sit by his side.

_...herhandmeetinghischeek..._

His gaze dropped back to the floor between his feet. He gripped his legs above the knee, in an attempt to keep himself physically grounded while his mind tried to reorient itself in reality. He started to panic as he realized the tempest was in fact it accelerating. Slowly crawling up his throat. Tears burning in his eyes, he couldn't fight the words as they pushed their way out of his mouth.

_...hespuntotheground..._

"My mother was an alcoholic. I thought that if she didn't have the ambrosia, she wouldn't get drunk, she wouldn't hit me. I went through the house, found every stash I could, took it outside and smashed each one on the porch. Got through most of it before she woke up. She hit me, I lost my balance and landed in the pile of glass. She walked away while I was bleeding out."

_...brokenambrosiabottlescut..._

The words fell off his tongue and out of his mouth, pouring into the air like a stream into the sea, said and done. The turmoil faded into the back of his mind, leaving Lee exhausted and weak. Slowly but surely he began reassembling himself, shifting his limbs in their sockets, assuring himself of his own solidity. Bending his knees to support his elbows, he let his hands dangle limply in the air. Lee rested his head on the console behind him, and allowed the air filtration dry the errant tears on his face, the salt itching his skin.

_...**a thumb running across one of the scars on his wrist**..._

He didn't feel empty, he felt vacant, a void in the environment, consuming space but giving nothing back. Courtesies, propriety, restraint and considerations fell away from him. No longer having the energy to keep them in place, he spoke.

"We got beaten by machines that want to make babies, now we have to babysit these civvies, and I don't know if I can do it without murdering half of them. We're frakked anyway. The Cylons took us completely by surprise and now they're just doing the cleanup. It's only a matter of time before they find us, a month, six months, maybe even a year, and it'll all be over."

Lee was good at accepting things that were done, there wasn't much point in dwelling. But he couldn't help but wonder what was going on in Achilla's head. She was one of the few people he couldn't really predict.

"Could be worse."

Lee snorted incredulously, but her face was open and sympathetic. No pity, just a kind acceptance that he had only seen a few times before. He chuckled, not at the statement, but the fact that a few hours ago she'd been ready to sterilize him with a swift kick, it was strange how quickly things changed.

"How do you figure?"

"We could be stuck on Saggitaron."

Stuck on a planet where the medical facilities were antiquated at best, surrounded by hundreds of anti-government militia, some of whom knew him by his face...yeah it could be worse.

"If it's as you say, only a matter of time, then what's the mission, sir?"

Her question was a serious one, and for a moment Lee blanked. but he remembered the decision he had come to in the Caprican forest before finding the flyboy and his frakbot. Settling his gaze once again on the space in front of him, Lee forced his brain back to business.

"Keep the civilians alive as long as possible."

Her grim expression echoed his own thoughts fairly clearly silence of the room, disgust at having been reduced to performing such a futile and inane task.

"Surviving isn't going to be enough sir. They'll need a goal, something to do, to keep their minds going, a mission of their own."

Lee had already considered the same thing. There were few options, but he knew exactly what Achilla was suggesting.

"A resistance? It'd be like throwing cotton at a tank."

Which was true, the best they could do was irritate the Cylons. Their dominance was complete and iron-clad, at least from what he had seen. If their mission was to keep the civvies alive, since it was going to be a complicated dance of countermeasures, guerilla tactics. Exhausting and highly risky, since the group of survivors was small enough that if one thing went wrong, and the Cylons managed to get a punch through their defenses, they wouldn't recover.

"We're frakked anyway, might as well die doing what we know. Also might keep your mind on the mission and off murdering Anders."

Lee swiveled his head to look at her; their eyes meet, and a smile tugged the corners of their lips.

"Maybe."

They sat there for a good moment, no words were necessary. Lee felt the place where the memory once sat and festered, now vacant, a wound that was cleaned and ready to heal. Someone knew his secret, the one no one else in the worlds knew. And now that it was out, it seemed ridiculous that he had kept it to himself for so long. The heavens didn't come crashing down, children hadn't run screaming down the halls. He almost missed the weight of it on his shoulders.

"Where'd Dion take Anders?

Having already lowered herself to the floor for him Achilla did not deign to stand. Her face shifted; what had been soft concern was now slightly tinged with seriousness.

"They're down in the medical bay, Dion's pulling out all the stops to calm him down. Maybe get him to be more reasonable. What are we going to do about Anders, sir?"

For a brief moment Lee's had itched for his knife, still sheathed behind his back. But the moment passed, and now he was left with an immensly difficult operation, no chance of success, and a certainty of death. Sighing to himself, Lee shook his head.

"Well, if this bunch is going to put together an effective resistance they got to know about the flesh toasters. Figure we let the C-bucks in on the news, give them some kind of basic outline. Later we'll make sure we have an actual plan and hope I survive all the civvies' mistakes."

Seeing his determination return, Achilla stood. She followed Lee out the door, and they soon fell into step, making the long walk to Med Bay.

"Where's Helo?"

"Sitting in the Security Hub. Still in shock."

If Lee were a sympathetic man, he would understand and feel for the man, the girl he had fell head over heels for was the enemy, and had been using him from the beginning. But Lee had very little sympathy for anyone who let themselves be deceived by something so obvious.

"Good. Let him stew for a bit."

Lee realized he had a dilemma. Achilla was going through the same mud as him; it was an unspoken agreement that if either of them had something to say, they would say it. But Lee had just confessed a secret that had been haunting him for thirteen years, and found himself pushed into a realm of vulnerability that he'd never broached with the woman walking next to him.

"You holding up alright?"

She didn't look at him, replying with a straight face.

"I'm alright. Fortunately I'm not as big of a pussy as you are, sir."

Achilla chuckled at his comical grimace. Lee thought it was nice to know that their relationship hadn't changed because of his admission. But as their footsteps echoed through the featureless, grey concrete halls, he couldn't quite let go of the dig.

"So when did you and Dion start sleeping together?"

Achilla halted mid-step a couple feet from the left turn to the corridor that led to the Med Bay entrance. Lee swaggered a few more steps before he turned to look at her. The shock on her face made him want to laugh out loud, but knowing her, he wouldn't live long enough to enjoy it. Instead he plastered on the biggest shit eating grin he could manage without straining his face.

"Thought I missed that, didn't you?"

The shock reverted instantly to the death glare he was so fond of and she stalked toward him, irritation growling with every footstep. And while the flak he was going to catch for the rest of his life was going to be painful, it was worth catching her off guard for once. His internal smugness was short lived, however, as she passed by him with a verbal punch to the arm.

"At least I'm getting some."

He stood stunned and gaping for a moment; it was a low blow, because it was true. But not willing to let her have the last word, he followed her around the bend, his voice raised in incredulity.

"Hey! I'll have you..."

The blood and bone stung his skin as they slammed into his face. The coppery taste on his tongue letting him know the blast of matter had caught him mid word. A second later a heavy weight slammed into his chest, dragging him down to the ground. Lee fell against the wall, keeping himself upright for a moment, before slowly sinking down into a sitting position.

The ringing in his ears told him the narrow corridor had amplified the sound of the gunshot, creating a world of white noise, allowing him to focus on the feeling of warm blood dripping down the front of his neck and into his shirt. It took a couple shakes of his head to get the blood out of his eyes, blinding him, before he could look at the body laying against him. He noticed then that she was on her back, head resting on his shoulder, cradled between his legs. She felt relaxed, limp, resting against him with an intimacy they had never shared. Oddly enough he felt relaxed too, both arms wedged beneath her armpits, one wrapped around her stomach, the other gripping her shoulder. His fingers slid through the blood on her skin.

The next cluster of shots added to the ringing in his ears. The world outside their embrace was an illegible blur easily ignored. Slowly he moved the hand on her shoulder out from under her armpit, soaked undershirt sticking to his skin, and smoothed her hair out of her face. The light colors of the bone, fat and brain were a vivid contrast against her blue black skin. There wasn't much left of the right side of her face, the bullet had punched through her nose, caught her cheek and collapsed most of the skull, exposing her sinus cavity, eye ball, and tongue as it ripped through.

It was her eyes, the look of surprise muted by a dullness only caused by death, that set him off. The sudden surge of raw emotion filled his throat, pushing upwards, lodging in the back of his mouth, choking him. Lee's face crumpled, and a tiny cry, barely audible, escaped him as he hugged her tightly to his chest. Her lack of response only fueled the searing pain in his body.

Lee tried, tried so hard, but he couldn't keep the anguished scream from passing his lips. It was long. It was loud. It echoed through the entirety of the bunker, burning itself into everyone's memory. The body that had once been Achilla stared at nothing.

_...the sound of her walking away._

AN: Just letting you all know I am still writing, this story will go on, it will just take awhile, so a special thank you to all the wonderful readers who are still following this story.


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